


Beneath a Shattered Sky

by MistyMountainHop



Category: That '70s Show
Genre: Adventure, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-27
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2017-11-15 04:10:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 69
Words: 352,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyMountainHop/pseuds/MistyMountainHop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackie grows strange with Hyde's ring finally on her finger, and Hyde must discover why before it destroys them both. A Forman family secret may hold the key, but the revelation thrusts Eric and Donna into peril. The threat to them all stretches far beyond Point Place, conspiring to put an end to true love... everywhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Sun Is Setting

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. "You Make Me Real" (C) 1970 Elektra Entertainment for United States and WEA International Inc. for the world outside of the United States. "Love Reign O'er Me" (C) 2010 Geffen Records.
> 
> **Author's Note:** This story stands alone. You don't need to have read _Reflections Through the Glass_ to enjoy or understand what's going on here. All will be explained through the natural course of the story. But this is technically the sequel, so reading the first one may enhance your enjoyment of it.

  

 

CHAPTER 1  
**THE SUN IS SETTING**

_Wednesday, May 21_ _st_ _, 1980_

_Eight Months after Jackie and Hyde Got Engaged_

_Jackie and Hyde's Apartment in Kenosha, Wisconsin_

**_…_ **

"Oh, Steven, you are gonna _love_ this once you wake up."

Jackie dunked slices of Wonder Bread into the egg mixture she'd made. The cramped, windowless kitchen was her least favorite part of the apartment. As consolation, golden sunlight and music poured in from the attached living room. It was her day to make breakfast, and The Doors' _Morrison Hotel_ played on the stereo. Not her favorite, either, but she wanted to make this morning extra-special for Steven.

She dropped the egg-soaked bread onto a heated pan, and her engagement ring gleamed in the sunlight. The diamond was sky blue, her favorite color, and she was honored to wear it. The ring had belonged to Fez's grandmother, the fairest woman of them all. And maybe, just maybe, Jackie had taken on that mantle, too: _Jackie Burkhart, the fairest of them all._

The thought tickled her as butter popped and crackled underneath the bread. She flipped the slices over with a spatula and swayed her hips rhythmically. Steven's music had a sexy bassline. She wouldn't admit the truth out loud—he'd never let her play The Captain & Tennille again if he knew—but she'd grown to like his musical taste.

She jostled the pan a little to keep the butter from moving to the rim, and a surprised breath left her. Gentle but determined hands slid over her pajama top. Strong arms wrapped around her waist, and a warm body pressed against her back.

_Steven._

"Smells good," he said. His sideburn fuzzed against her cheek, and his hips matched her movements. He was half-hugging, half-dancing with her. "Yeah..." he inhaled deeply, "smells _real_ good."

"Me or breakfast?"

He chuckled and turned her around. His hair was a mess of curls, and blue toothpaste smeared his white undershirt. He'd clearly just woken up, but his eyes were bright and alive, like the sunlit sky. Like the diamond of her ring.

She touched her palms to the sides of his face. Her thumbs stroked his stubbly cheeks, and he smiled tenderly. That smile was enough to make her forget where she was, what she was doing. She forced herself to remember. She was in the kitchen with breakfast cooking on the stove. The Doors were playing on the stereo... while Steven continued to dance with her. His hands subtly guided the motion of her hips, and she began to lose herself again.

"The French toast's going to burn," she said.

"So we'll eat cereal." He shut off the stove.

She sighed but let him draw her closer. His left hand slid up the small of her back, and his right hand took hold of her left. He waltzed her past the kitchen counter and into the living room, and she delighted in his skill. He was making good use of their ballroom lessons. That had been their deal. She'd learn how to cook if he learned how to dance for Eric and Donna's wedding—and their own.

"This is nice," he said and spun her.

She giggled. The softer qualities of his voice always made her giddy. He brought her flush against him after the spin. He was chuckling again, only this time with a mischievous smirk.

"What?" she said.

"You dig my music."

"I do not."

"Admit it, doll." He pecked her lips softly and kept himself close to her. The lingering taste of his kiss, his adept dancing, the slight pressure of his hips—all of it threatened to make her confess. "Admit it," he repeated. "The Doors get you hotter than ABBA ever could."

She strengthened her resolve. Her hands slipped down to his sweat pants and squeezed his butt. "I admit nothing."

"You already have." He cupped her own butt and gave it a squeeze. "You just don't know it yet."

"Steven!" She squeezed his butt again in retaliation.

He said nothing but squeezed her butt harder.

She slapped his.

He slapped hers harder, and she gasped—and he laughed deviously. His eyes grew brighter and his tongue stuck out through his teeth. He looked like a kid whenever he laughed that way, and it made her laugh with him.

She hugged his waist and leaned her head on his chest. She listened possessively to the joy bouncing out of him. His playful side was something she treasured. He'd lost some of it in Fez's homeland, after their adventures through that magic mirror. She was determined for him not to lose any more.

"Jackie, what's going on?" he said. "What's with the frown?" He was looking at her with concern, but when had his laughter stopped? When had he pulled from her embrace? She wasn't aware of any of it—or of frowning.

She touched the corner of her lips. Gravity had pulled them down.

"You pissed about the French toast?" He glanced back at the kitchen. "It was probably gonna burn anyway."

She smacked him across the chest. "Steven, I'm really trying. I was born with a _cook,_ not with cooking talent. Just be glad I can touch eggs now. They're nothing in comparison to mucking through a Deadly Swamp or swimming in a dirty moat."

"I know, and I appreciate you even giving it a shot."

"You do?"

"Yeah, man. It's nice that you, uh..." he looked away, "you know, that you..."

She tilted her head. She was going to have to help him with this one. " _Care_ , Steven? That I care about you more than I hate cooking?"

"Exactly." He grinned and bridged the remaining distance between them. His mouth closed in on hers and gently parted her lips. The kiss was both loving and deep, and it made her dizzy—but not pleasantly. Memories whirled inside her mind like a tornado. They whisked her to the past when Steven could barely touch her, as if her very skin was diseased. He hadn't wanted her to exist then, to see her face or hear her voice. But she fought her way back inside him as they ran through too many forests, away from ugly Trolls and murderous farmers.

The tornado of memory swept her to Fez's castle with an Evil Queen and a vicious wolf, to a dark chamber full of mirrors and Steven's impassive, loveless face. Then it spat her out to the present again, to her living room. She withdrew from Steven's kiss, stunned by the experience, but he had the serene, carefree expression of a satisfied man. He twirled her on the soft rug as Jim Morrison sang through the speakers, " _Really need ya, baby, God knows I do 'cause I'm not real enough without you._ "He brought her close to him once more, and she said, "Are you happy, Steven?"

Only Jim Morrison's voice gave her answer, " _You make me throw away mistaken misery. Make me free,_ _love. Make me free._ "

Steven, meanwhile, lifted her arm as if to tango. She dug her nails into his skin to keep him from dancing. " _Steven,_ are you happy?"

He grimaced, but his eyes remained warm. "What's it freakin' look like?"

"Yes."

"Then there's your answer."

He tried again to tango with her, and she gave in though the song was more suited for a jive. He led her around the coffee table and their claret-colored sofa, past his rock posters and the framed pictures of herself. They danced alongside their bookcases filled with records and beauty magazines. Passed books of his that made her think about things she'd never thought about before.

"But you never say it," she said as he dipped her. "You never say you're happy."

"Ever think it's 'cause you keep asking me lately?" He kissed the tip of her nose then raised her back up.

"Maybe I keep asking because you're not telling me."

He released her—the tango was done, apparently—and his arms dropped to his sides. "I hate that question."

"So if I didn't ask," she said and leaned against the back of the sofa, " would you volunteer the information?"

"Don't you think I already do?"

Her mind screamed, _Yes!_ —he'd just danced with her all over their apartment—but her heart didn't feel it, had no faith in something he refused to claim verbally.

"Grasshopper, if you can't fucking see it..." He sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Why do I have to put everything into words for you?"

"I trust words."

"How about this," he stepped back toward her, "you shut your piehole and trust _me?_ "

He cradled the side of her face, and his thumb traced the ridge of her ear, coaxing a startled but pleased, "Oh!" from her. It was amazing how her joy could be contained right here in this man—in his touch, his laughter. _Jackie and Steven..._ their names mingled perfectly in the same breath, but she'd never been Jackie alone. She'd always had a man to draw strength from, starting with her her father and now Steven. It wasn't right.

 _ _She__ wasn't right. Didn't Steven deserve someone who was strong on her own? Who could survive by herself?

"Y'know," he said, "we got an hour before they're all gonna show up." His gaze had fogged over with lust and something deeper. "We could have our own bachelor party right here."

She arched an eyebrow. "You want me to strip for you?"

He arched an eyebrow right back. "I've done it for you."

"But when you do it, it's cute."

"Yeah?" His thumb remained on her ear, dragging itself up and down the outer edge. That simple touch had seduced her many times, but she had to prepare for their friends' arrival. Do her hair and makeup. Pick the perfect outfit, something that would stick in Steven's mind at that stupid nudie bar tonight. "Let's go," he said, tugging her hand toward the bedroom. "Or we could use the couch..."

"No, I want you to long for me tonight," she said. "It's Eric's bachelor party, and if he enjoys looking at skanky strippers instead of his future wife, that's his problem. But I want you to remember what you have at home."

"There's more than looking that goes on in there."

"Excuse me?"

"Forman's bound to get himself a lap dance if he's drunk enough."

"Steven," she began to shake, and her fists clenched, "you—you can't!" Her words were devolving into a scream, but she forced them to keep their shape. "If another woman gets you off, especially by touching you—"

"Jackie, Jackie, stop." He was cupping her face with both hands now. "Gawking at other chicks doesn't get me off anymore, and I'm sure as hell not gonna be touched by one. I'm not like Forman. I'm past that shit." His stare was intense, communicating with her on a visceral level. She glanced away, only to be brought back by his voice. "You're it for me, okay? You're all I fucking want."

He kissed her then, as powerful a kiss as she'd ever received. Her legs buckled, and he held her up as she continued to shake. Anger and fear were no longer the cause. His feelings for her had done it. She felt them as if they circulated in her very blood. He was telling the truth. Finally, she was all he desired.

Months ago, he'd brought his old stash of dirty magazines to Mt. Hump Park. The magic mirror was hidden there, the _Traveling_ mirror. She and Steven had reunited on the other side of it, in the Nine Kingdoms where Fez and Michael now lived. Steven hated talking about what happened there, but he'd tossed his _Playboys_ into the mirror and never bought another one.

Now, as his kiss softened, she knotted her hands at his back. Like him, she had no wish to return to that fairy-tale world. She preferred Kenosha's paved streets to the cobblestones of Fez's kingdom—and Steven's warmth over magic. A life with him was all _she_ desired. His ring on her finger all but guaranteed she'd get it.

"You got nothing to worry about, all right?" he said into her lips.

She nodded, but doubt clung to her like dew. It sank deep into her pores, and not even her morning shower would slough it off.

* * *

Eric shifted a giant sack of plant food to his left shoulder. Donna's idea of a house-warming gift for Hyde and Jackie was sweet, but lugging a ten-pound sack up five flights of stairs? Not an easy task, even after months of weight training. Worse, Fez was behind him, shouting, "Hurry up, fool! Your king has spoken."

"Your king has spoken, Eric!" Kelso repeated on the stairs. He was climbing behind Fez.

Eric ignored them until the third floor when Fez poked his back and said, "The broken elevator would go faster than you."

A growl rumbled in Eric's throat. A man could take only so much. He turned around before the next staircase. "You wanna carry this thing?"

Fez put up his hand in refusal, and Kelso repeated again, "Your king has spoken!"

Eric sighed and kept climbing. Those two had laid it on thick since he and Donna picked them up from Mt. Hump. They were kidding around, but Eric hadn't ruled out regicide. He could toss the sack of plant food at Fez's skull. Maybe it would take out Kelso in the process, two-for-one.

"Kelso, would you cut it out?" Donna said. She was at the head of the group, carrying a small potted cactus inside a larger pot. "Fez may be King where he's from, but this is Wisconsin, and he's just Fez here."

"N'uh-uh!" Kelso said. "This is the Tenth Kingdom, and all kingdoms gotta recognize royalty from the other ones. And that's 'Sir' Kelso, to you."

"Ai, she is right, Kelso," Fez said. "I would rather be 'just Fez' right now anyway."

"But, Fez—" Kelso objected.

"I said, 'Your king has spoken!' Now..." Fez raised his arms toward Eric, "I will take the sack."

"Well, if you insist." Eric gave him the sack of plant food, and Fez passed it to Kelso.

"What?" Kelso said. "I'm already carrying the backpack!"

"Ah-ah-ah, Kelso," Eric said, wagging his finger, "your king has spoken."

Donna chuckled and flicked the brim of Eric's Milwaukee Brewer's cap. "Nice burn!"

"Thank you, m'lady."

Afterward, the four of them reached the sixth floor without incident. The hallway was nicely lit, but Donna didn't seem to agree. She complained about the "dungeon lighting" as she rang the doorbell of apartment 6-A.

Hyde opened the door with a scowl. "You're late," he said, but Eric didn't care. He embraced Hyde warmly. They hadn't seen each other since winter break, and despite Hyde's frosty welcome, he seemed to miss Eric, too. He returned the hug and patted Eric's back. "What'd you do, get a flat tire?"

"Eric just _had_ to get his jog in this morning," Donna said, causing Hyde, Kelso, and Fez all to laugh.

"Do you wear a headband?" Kelso said. "Oh, and those shorts? Burn!"

Eric let go of Hyde and glanced back at Kelso. "Hey, don't knock it 'til you've tried it. You get a nice high from running."

"Yeah, right," Hyde said and led everyone into his apartment.

The living room was a decent size. It had hardwood floors, and the furniture was set up like Eric's old basement. The décor shouldn't have worked. It was a cross between Hyde's edgy aesthetic and Jackie's ultra-feminine taste. Filigree sconces on the walls, cherrywood bookshelves with silver furnishings, black chairs and rock posters—it definitely shouldn't have worked, but it did.

Just like Hyde and Jackie.

"It's all used," Hyde said, pointing to the furniture. He was clearly proud of that fact but didn't dwell on it. "Fez," he clapped Fez's shoulder, "long time, no see. How's being 'the Man,' treating ya?"

"Oh, it's fine. It's fine," Fez said, "but I don't understand why you won't take my offer."

"Your money comes from 'that place'. Not happening."

"Steven, money is money," said a new but familiar voice, and Eric turned toward it. Jackie was leaving what had to be the bedroom. A blouse-and-skirt combo hugged her small, shapely body, and he couldn't deny she looked—and smelled—fantastic. Lavender perfume with hints of citrus wafted from her skin. Her brown hair reached just below her chin. The hack-job Hyde did eight-months-ago had finally grown out.

"Tough shit," Hyde said. "I want as little to do with 'that place' as possible."

"But Michael and Fez come from 'that place,'" she said.

"Exactly. Don't want anything to do with them, either." He grinned in Kelso's direction, obviously joking. "You keepin' your ass safe over there?"

"I'm Captain of the Fourth Kingdom Guard," Kelso said, dropping the sack of plant food on the floor. Eric picked it back up. "Defeater of the Trolls. People faint in awe when I walk by. It's awesome!"

"Yeah?" Hyde grabbed Kelso's left wrist. A thick scar ran from his bicep to his inner elbow. "That still getting you chicks?"

"Tons!" Kelso pumped his fist in the air, but his rapture quickly faded. "Nothing over here, though. Man, those stupid wishes I made are still in effect. It sucks! I had to legally change my name to 'Pink Floyd' to get those Schlitz people off my back. They kept bringing me beer. The first time I went back to my parents' house, the yard was covered in beer crates. My brothers were happy, though..."

Eric found himself staring at Kelso's scar. Trolls—those violent, shoe-loving uggos—were twice the size of Rocky Johnson, Eric's favorite wrestler. They also had a surprising fondness for the Bee Gees. Kelso had gotten the scar from fighting the Troll King's children, from protecting Eric, Donna, and Jackie. He could've died. They _all_ could have, and one of them had...

_Laurie._

"Eric," Donna nudged his shoulder, "you okay?"

"What?" He blinked, and the image of a golden comb with long, sharp teeth raked behind his eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

"Good. Because..." she presented Hyde with the cactus, "it's time for our house-warming gifts."

"Apartment-warming," Jackie said and gazed at her engagement ring.

Hyde took the cactus. "A plant?"

"It's prickly, just like you," Donna said.

Jackie snatched the cactus from Hyde and glowered at Donna. "I don't wanna have to water a stupid plant every day. Is this a burn gift?"

"Says here it needs water only once a month," Hyde said, reading the tag. "Requirements: food, water, sunlight." He looked up at Eric. "Food?"

Eric shoved the sack of plant food at him, and Hyde stumbled backward. "Three times-a-year, buddy. Spring, summer, fall."

"The cactus is gonna grow out of that pot eventually," Donna patted the larger pot she'd bought them, "so you can put it in this."

Hyde took the pot from her. "You've gone all domestic since you're about to get married, huh?"

"They've gotten even more dull." Jackie stalked off to the window and placed the cactus on the sill.

"All right," Kelso said and shrugged off his leather knapsack, "now that 'Mom and Dad' have given you their boring gifts, here's mine and Fez's." He flopped down on the sofa and inadvertently kicked the coffee table. Two bowls of party mix and three six-packs of soda bounced. "Sorry." He rifled through the knapsack. Then he pulled out an iridescent set of bra and panties.

Hyde felt the material with his fingers, and colorful sparks floated into the air. "What the hell is this?"

"The hornier you get, the more it reacts." Kelso grabbed a handful of party mix and stuffed it into his mouth. "I'm not that horny right now."

"I am." Fez touched the panties, and a red firework burst over the couch.

Jackie swiped the bra from Hyde and stared at it. She didn't seem to know how to react.

"Wait until you put it on," Kelso said.

"Yes, you both will feel all sorts of things," Fez said. "Put it on."

Hyde quirked an eyebrow at Jackie, and she flashed Fez a sour look. "No," she said.

"Damn, Jackie! It's rude not to try out a gift in front of the giver," Kelso said, and Jackie and Donna both gave him a withering glare. "Don't worry, Big D. We got you the same thing for your wedding present."

"All right!" Eric shouted cheerfully, and Donna turned her glare on him. He cleared his throat. "I only meant... No, I _do_ mean, 'All right!'"

Her tough expression weakened into a laugh. She was gorgeous, and her laughter made him feel carefree—if only for a moment. He leaned in for a kiss, and a soft, feminine voice began to sing, _"Only love can make it rain, the way the beach is kissed by the sea..."_

It was Donna's engagement ring. He'd bought it for her in Kissing Town, and the large pearl was singing The Who's "Love Reign O'er Me".

"Hey, you trained it to sing something other than Styx?" Hyde said.

"You damn well better believe it." Donna sat on the sofa's arm and scooped up some party mix. "I tried to teach it Janis Joplin, but the pearl keeps refusing."

"That ring is pretty smart," Jackie said, and she pulled Hyde to a black chair. They sat down together, him in the chair and her on his lap.

"So..." Hyde's fingers laced over Jackie's stomach, "does it sing during your classes? Freak out your professors?"

"No, it usually knows when to keep quiet," Donna said, tapping her fingers on her knee as the ring sang. She looked adorable sitting on the sofa arm, her legs swinging in time to Pete Townshend's keyboard.

Eric moved toward her. He opened a can of Coke as the conversation became an update-session. How did Eric's first year of college go? Was being an education major as boring as it sounds? Did _The Empire Strikes Back's_ release today influence Eric and Donna's wedding date? But no one asked him about Laurie, if he'd gotten any other signs of her after that rose on Wedge Hill.

He hadn't.

The discussion moved onto Donna and her journalism major. Then onto Jackie and Hyde, how they liked living in the Graycliff Apartments rental. It was close to good shopping, Jackie told them. A fifteen-minute bus ride to her college, a five-minute walk to Lake Michigan.

Business at Grooves was fine, Hyde said, "except for the time Kelso visited me four months back and almost set fire to the place."

"It was an accident, Hyde. God!" Kelso said. "How was I supposed to know scorch ants liked eating vinyl?"

"Why the hell did you bring those things back with you at all, moron?" Hyde was frowning, and his boot tapped on the floor. "Fairy-tale shit from the Nine Kingdoms should stay in the Nine Kingdoms."

"I brought them for Betsy," Kelso said and hugged his knapsack to his chest. "I don't get to see her a lot, so I gotta give her something to remember me by."

"How 'bout buying her stuffed animal?" Hyde said. "Ever think of that?"

Kelso stuck out his tongue. "That's exactly what I got her this time, Mr. Smarty Pants. I can't wait to see her tomorrow."

Jackie shifted in Hyde's lap and sighed as if the conversation were beneath her. Then she gazed at her engagement ring, for what had to be the hundredth time since Eric had gotten there. "I love you," she said.

Hyde patted the sides of her butt. "You talking to me or the ring?"

"Both."

Eric fought not to laugh. He knew she liked jewelry, but her fascination with that blue diamond was ridiculous.

"Oh, Jackie," Fez said, "I am so glad you like the ring. Snow White would be proud that you wear it."

She finally looked up. "Really?"

"Yes. You are beautiful and brave, just like she was."

"I know. Thanks, Fezzy."

Kelso jabbed a soda can in her direction. "That's King Fezzy, to you."

 _Snow White._ Eric shuddered. In the last eight months, he'd tried to forget she was Fez's grandmother—or that he ever jumped through that Traveling mirror. He couldn't, of course. Donna's stomach still had remnants of the Troll's tattoo, despite the magical ointment Fez gave her. Eric's own reflection betrayed him, too. His front teeth shone occasionally with unnatural light, reminding him that fairy tales were very real. Most troubling of all, the stink of rotten food brought him back to the Deadly Swamp, where he'd learned the truth about his sister.

"Eric!" Kelso shouted, jolting Eric from his thoughts. "Your king asked you a question."

Donna slammed her fist into Kelso's shoulder. "If you say that one more time, you're gonna be Captain of My Foot Kicking Your Ass."

"Nice," Hyde said.

Kelso winced and rubbed his shoulder, and Fez repeated his question. "Eric, have you had any more bad dreams about getting married to Donna?"

"Bad dreams?" Donna grasped the hem of Eric's shirt and dragged him closer. He'd been standing this whole time, and he bumped into the sofa's arm. "You've been having bad dreams? Wait... how does Fez know? We haven't seen him since—"

"No, no." Eric mustered a smile. "No dreams. He's just talking about the nightmare I had before our first wedding..." He swallowed. "You know, the one where we'd been married for five years and living in that trailer, and you were miserable and left me?"

Kelso nodded. "And after you told us about it, Hyde asked if you saw Jackie—and if she was ugly— and if he had to dump her."

"What?" Jackie's voice was shrill and piercing, and she twisted around in Hyde's lap.

Hyde laughed defensively. "I didn't say any of that. Sir Dillhole's remembering it wrong."

"Hyde's right, Jackie," Eric said. "He asked me how you were 'holding up' five years later—"

"Shut up, Forman!"

"—and if he should 'get out' now."

Jackie pinched Hyde's arm, and he grunted in pain.

"Burn!" Kelso said. "Man, it's really good to be back."

"Assholes," Hyde muttered, but Jackie was scowling at him. "Hey, look, I didn't mean—"

"So you'd dump me if I became ugly? Is that what you're staying Steven?" She poked his chest and he clenched his jaw shut, but she wasn't finished talking. "Me becoming ugly is impossible because beauty is genetic, and my mom drinks like she's been trapped in a mall for years with no Orange Julius stands, and she's still beautiful."

Eric, Kelso, and Fez all enthusiastically agreed. "And hot, too!" Kelso said.

Hyde didn't say anything, and Jackie thrust herself from his lap. "Well, Steven?"

"Jackie, first off," Hyde said, crossing his arms, "I said that over two freakin' years ago, and I was mostly kidding. Second, I'm not doing this crap with you."

She matched his crossed arms. "'Mostly'?"

Eric, Kelso, and Fez hooted, but Donna elbowed Eric in the ribs.

"Take off the ring and throw it at him!" Kelso said.

Jackie's scowl deepened. "Oh, shut up, Michael! Nothing's going to make me take off this ring. He's marrying me, whether he wants to or not."

"As entertaining as all this is," Eric said, hoping to diffuse the tension, "summer break officially started last Friday, and time's-a-wasting, people." He guided Donna off the couch. "We've got a movie to go to and an Empire to watch as it strikes back."

Hyde blew out a frustrated breath. "Fine."

"Fine," Jackie said.

The fight was far from over, but Eric silently thanked them for taking a break. This was his and Donna's week, and he intended to wring as much joy out of it as possible.

* * *

The line outside the movie theater wound around the block, and Jackie remained by Donna. Her anger at Steven only faded once they were halfway to the box office. Holding him accountable for something he'd said so long ago was foolish, and with that new understanding, she went to his side and apologized.

"Forget it," he said and squeezed her hand. "Sorry, too."

She hugged his arm to her body as the line inched forward, and he pressed the occasional kiss to her temple. Then, about ten feet closer to the box office, an unwelcome voice rang through the air: "Eric? Eric Forman? Thanks for saving me a spot, buddy."

Mitch—the red-haired, annoying little man who was inexplicably enamored with Donna—pushed his way through the line and stood next to Eric. "Thanks, pal." Mitch gestured to all the people behind them. "That sucker's a mile long..." he winked at Donna, "like my lightsaber, if you catch my drift."

Eric shoved him out of the line. "I don't think so, 'pal'."

"Whoa," Mitch recovered his footing, "you've got some muscle!" and returned to Eric's side, only for Eric to shove him again. This time, Mitch fell to the sidewalk. "Damn, Forman. Easy! When'd you turn into the Hulk?"

"Eight months ago," Eric said.

"Yeah, well that's about the time you're gonna spend in jail, buddy." Mitch stood up and dusted himself off. "What you just did, that's assault! All these people are witnesses."

Michael and Fez were behind Jackie, and Michael whispered, "Fez, you want me to—"

"Ai, no. I don't like the sonuvabitch, but you can't use that on him."

"Fine." Michael sounded disappointed. Jackie had no idea what he'd wanted to do, but she was sure it wasn't good.

She was also sure something strange was going on with Eric. He'd never been that aggressive before, but she couldn't blame him. He deserved to be a little violent after what he went through with Laurie... not that Jackie had any interest in talking to him about it. That was Donna's job.

"You wanna hit me?" Mitch said. "Go ahead." He got in Eric's face and pointed to his own eye. "Right there. And then you'll be arrested and never know what happens to Luke or Leia."

Eric backed off and lowered his head. "Just... go away, Mitch."

"Oh, I'm _never_ backing off, Forman!"

"Mitch," Donna produced a square envelope from her bag, "consider this a white flag of truce and go stand at the end of the line."

Mitch opened the envelope, and Eric whispered, "Donna, you can't give a wedding invitation to every piece of riffraff you meet."

"Can I bring a date?" Mitch said after reading the invitation.

"Of course," Donna said.

"All right! Hot post-wedding sex, here I come!" Mitch stuffed the invitation in his pocket. "Congratulations, Forman." Then he addressed Donna. "If he doesn't go through with it this time, Cherry Pie, my lightsaber's always avail—"

Steven pulled away from Jackie and grabbed Mitch by his shirt collar. "Yeah, let's go," Steven said and dragged him down the line. He returned a few minutes later, Mitch-less. "Don't worry," he told Eric, "if Don Juan el Twerpo has the balls to show up at your wedding, he ain't gonna fuck with it."

"Why?" Eric had a look of admiration on his face, and Jackie must have had the same look because she certainly felt that way. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him enough, man. Let's leave it at that."

Jackie looped her arms around Steven's hips as the line collectively moved toward the box office. She was used to him not tolerating any bullies, especially on the behalf of his friends. But ever since they'd gotten back to Wisconsin, he didn't hesitate at all. It was as if his sense of protectiveness had multiplied by ten, and it more than awed her. It turned her on.

* * *

Jackie was crying. That stupid space movie had made her cry. The credits were rolling, and Steven rubbed her back, and Eric stared at the screen with his mouth agape. Michael and Fez were retelling the movie to each other, adding their own sound effects, as Donna hugged Eric's shoulders, saying, "She made the wrong choice, Eric. I never would've picked Han."

"How could he have said that to her?" Jackie shouted and hit Steven in the stomach. It was at least the fifth time she'd struck him. Han Solo's response to Princess Leia's declaration of love was unacceptable.

"Hey, would ya quit freakin' hitting me? I didn't say it."

She jabbed a finger in his face. "If I were about to lose you forever, you damn well better tell me you love me. What's this 'I know' crap? That's just as bad as you saying, 'I don't know,' when I asked if we'd ever get married."

"Jackie, come on. Don't bring that shit up again."

Eric looked over at them and nodded solemnly. "Luke would've told Leia he loves her."

"And that," Steven said, "is what makes Luke a pussy."

A few minutes later, they were all outside. The line around the theater hadn't shrunk, and Donna kept Eric from spilling Darth Vader's secret. The movie had really upset him, but Jackie had upset herself. She was holding Steven's hand and admonishing herself silently. She shouldn't have brought up their past. His uncertainty about their future together was over, but the words had fallen out her mouth like grenades. She kept doing that lately, spitting out things she didn't mean to say. It was driving her crazy.

"Man, Luke's fight with Vader was badass," Steven said to Eric. "Pretty cool he chose death instead of the Dark Side, man."

"Wait, wait, wait..." Eric held him back, "how can he be both a pussy and a badass?"

Steven smirked as if Eric already knew the answer.

* * *

The men split off from the women after lunch. Jackie had apologized to Hyde again before they left, but he didn't want her apologies. He needed her to chill out. She was constantly running hot and cold with him. Sometimes, what he gave satisfied her. Other times, she accused him of withholding himself. It was like permanent PMS, man. The thought had crossed his mind that she was pregnant. But this shit had started months ago, and she hadn't gained a pound.

Going through that fairy-tale hell must have traumatized her more than she'd ever admit. She'd witnessed him "poisoning" thousands of people in Fez's ballroom. Their bodies dropped to the marble floor, and he acted like it didn't matter to him. Turned out he was only dosing them with a sleeping brew. He'd whipped one up thanks to a book he read, but she hadn't known that then.

Then she watched as a possessed Laurie choked the life out of Forman. A poisoned comb was stuck in Laurie's hair, and Jackie shouted at Forman to use it. He did, scratched Laurie's neck with its sharp teeth, and Laurie died instead of him. All in front of Jackie.

She'd talked it out with Hyde during their first months back in Wisconsin, cried with him. She didn't hold back when she needed comfort, and he was glad to give it. Eventually, she seemed to let everything go, and they lived their lives in the present.

Then the mood swings began.

Question upon damn question she asked him. He refused to answer most of them, instead kissing her into a more secure state of mind. His tactics usually worked, but when they didn't, he left the scene until she calmed down. Had to, man, or else she threw stuff at him.

He didn't believe in shrinks, so that was out. Maybe it _was_ hormones. She could have switched to a different birth control pill. Whatever the cause—for better or for worse—he planned on figuring out her deal. No other options except for breaking off their engagement...

But breaking things off with her would shatter him into a hundred thousand pieces.


	2. Live Wire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

 

CHAPTER 2  
 **LIVE WIRE**

The Cheesecake Palace was a decent-sized nudie bar, three blocks down from the restaurant where they'd eaten dinner. Hyde would've preferred to sit in the back somewhere, but Kelso made sure they got side-stage seating. Crap-music pounded through the speakers. The colorful stage lights were bright, gleaming off the strippers' spangly outfits and illuminating their giant racks.

Hyde kept on his shades and nursed his first beer. Strippers and pinup chicks didn't do much for him anymore. Their bodies meant shit to him, nothing to attach to. But he was here for Forman, who still liked whacking off to chicks other than his own.

Hyde had changed, all right, and it still surprised him. Being here made him want to go home. The hook-shaped scar on Jackie's left knee was more interesting than the metal poles on stage. Jackie didn't remember how she got the mark, only that it had been there since she was a kid. It was barely visible except in bright light. He often traced his fingertips over the raised skin, liked to call the scar her anchor. Her nose would wrinkle when he referred to it that way. "It's 'elegantly curved,' Steven," she'd correct. "Anchors belong to smelly, grody sailors."

Man, he _really_ wanted to be home, with her.

The colored lights on stage changed from blue to red, and the music shifted from The Babys to AC/DC. At least Hyde's ears were getting a break. Forman, of course, didn't give a crap about the lights or music. His eyes were fixed on the chicks dancing against the poles.

"Over here, Mama!" Fez said to a topless blonde stripper. He took out a five-dollar bill, but Kelso grabbed it from him.

"Fez, strip clubs are totally what the your kingdom needs." Kelso waved the five at all the strippers. "The only naked chicks you see are in the Fifth Kingdom—but you get them _all_ there, even the uggos and dudes! They just walk around with their junk swinging around, and no one needs to see that."

"Yes, strip clubs are nice..." Fez snatched the five back from Kelso and waved it himself, "but my people wouldn't like them."

Kelso grabbed the five again, and the blonde stripper approached him.

Fez frowned. "That is supposed to be _my_ whore, you sonuvabitch!"

"As Captain of the Guard, I gotta test the strippers out for you," Kelso said, and the topless chick sank onto his lap, "to make sure they're safe."

Forman glanced over at Hyde, and they shared a chuckle.

Fez, though, was glaring at Kelso. "I am your king, damn it, and I said, 'Lap dance!'" He pulled another five from his pocket, and a brunette stripper stuffed it into her black halter top. She stepped off the stage and ground her butt into his lap.

"Man, this is the only way I can get any action in this country," Kelso said once his dance was done. "I hate wishes."

"Magic," Hyde said, "it'll screw you over every time."

A few beers later, Forman pulled some pens from his pocket and gathered up a bunch of napkins. "Okay," he said, "it's time for what I like to call 'a little game'."

"We got plenty enough to do," Kelso said.

"Yeah," Fez said, "like look at those boobs!"

"Eric, I'm sorry," Kelso's attention was firmly planted on stage, "but I can't concentrate on more than six boobs at once."

"Don't you mean 'things'?" Forman said.

Hyde shook his head. "No, he means boobs."

Forman didn't seem to care, He handed everyone a pen and stack of napkins each. "It's my bachelor party. I'm the Emperor, okay? Kelso, Fez, when it's your bachelor parties, we can stare at boobs and ass all you like." He pulled off his Brewers cap. "Everyone write everyone else a question you've always wanted to know. And keep it anonymous."

Kelso and Fez groaned, and Hyde patted Forman's chest thoroughly. Forman laughed at first, as if it tickled him. Then he slapped Hyde away and said, "What the hell are you doing?"

'Trying to find your breasts. You're more girly than the strippers."

Forman pulled a face, and his front choppers caught the stage lights. They glowed brightly, making Hyde damn glad the Tooth Fairy hadn't extracted his own teeth. Forman put his head down afterward and wrote on the napkins. Hyde followed suit, writing his questions, and so did Fez. Kelso eventually joined in, but only after Fez gave him a direct order.

Hyde drank down his third beer while he wrote and ordered a fourth. Watching Kelso take orders from Fez weirded him out. Their dynamics were never like that before, but Kelso accepted Fez's fairy-tale background with no problem. He'd also had the easiest time coping with magic being real. Hyde hated all of it. If had been up to him, the Traveling mirror would've been smashed, keeping Wisconsin and "that place" apart forever.

Everyone folded up their napkins and dropped them into Forman's cap. "I'll go first," Forman said. He rummaged around in the cap and chose a napkin. "'Fez,'" he read, "'why the hell is Forman such a girl?' Yeah..." he crumpled the napkin and tossed it over his shoulder, "you don't have to answer that one, Fez."

"Oh, no. I would not want to disappoint the Emperor on his night."

"But, Fez—"

Fez put up his hand. "The king has spoken, and now he will speak. Eric is a girl because—"

"Okay, thanks," Forman said and held the cap out to Hyde. "Hyde? Your tur—"

"The king has spoken, _Eric!"_ Kelso said and pushed the cap away from Hyde. "Fez, go ahead."

"Eric is a girl because his mommy was the first woman who ever kissed him, saw him naked, and put her breast in his mouth. A-burn!"

"Actually, Fez," Forman said, "my mom never breastfed me. She—"

Hyde grabbed the cap and plucked out a napkin. "Forman, I haven't had enough beer yet for any of that not to be disgusting, so..." He unfolded the napkin and read. "'Kelso, who is the—' I'm not reading that." He shoved the napkin at Kelso.

"Fine," Kelso said and read the question himself. "'Kelso, who is the best lover you've ever had?' Oh, that's easy: Jackie."

Hyde scowled and clenched his fist for a frogging, but Forman said, "Why, because she was your first?"

"Yeah, and it actually meant something, you kn—"

Hyde reached across Forman and rammed his fist into Kelso's shoulder.

"Ow! Hey! Brooke's a close second," Kelso said, rubbing his arm. "Our doin' it made Betsy."

Forman put a hand over his heart. "Kelso, that's actually thoughtful. You've started to think."

Kelso nodded. "Yup. Now that I have a whole kingdom to protect, I'm changing." He waved a dollar bill at a stripper. "Let's have some ass-action! Whoo!" The stripper danced up to him, snatched his dollar with her teeth. Then she wiggled her butt in Kelso's face. "Oh, yeah!"

"My turn." Fez pulled a napkin from the cap. "'Fez, how many magic whores have you slept with now that you're a fabulously sexy and rich king?' Well, I—"

"It can't say that." Hyde swiped the napkin. "Hey, it's a question for me." He cleared his throat and read. "'Hyde, are you really okay with not having sex with anyone but Jackie for the rest of your long, long... long life?'" He wadded up the napkin and chucked it at Forman. "Yup."

"Whipped!" Kelso said.

"Hap—" Hyde shut himself up. That was one word he swore to himself he'd never freakin' say. "Whatever."

"Even if Jackie gets all fat and becomes an uggo?" Fez said, and Hyde reached across both Forman and Kelso to frog him in the arm.

"Why the hell did you have to say that shit to Jackie, man?" Hyde said. "She's insecure enough as it is right now."

"Ai..." Fez cupped his shoulder protectively. "I have never known Jackie to be insecure."

"Yeah, well she is." Hyde rolled his empty beer glass between his palms. "Forman, has Donna gotten weird the last few months, worrying about crap she doesn't have to worry about?"

"Sure. About the wedding decorations and the guest list. With the money Fez gave us, we've had a lot more options this time around."

"No, man, I mean more intangible things. Like whether or not you're still gonna find her hot in fifty years. Or if you're, uh..." Hyde scratched the back of his neck and stared at the red high heels of a stripper. He couldn't make himself confess that second one out loud, Jackie's constant question about him being happy. His mouth could form the words; he just didn't wanna say them. "Has Donna brought up past stuff," he said, "like you turning her cat into roadkill?"

"No," Forman's hand swirled absently in the cap of napkins. "Maybe Jackie's just anxious because you haven't set a date yet. And maybe my wedding to Donna is bringing up her fears and stuff—you know, that you won't actually go through with marrying her."

"Yeah..." Hyde nodded, "maybe. But she hasn't pushed me to talk about our wedding at all, man. Hasn't even left any wedding mags around to hint a it."

"Didn't she get you to take ballroom dancing lessons?" Forman said.

"That was a while back—and she's learning how to cook, _trying_ to learn in exchange. She's, uh... she's changed a lot since our 'collective trip,' and we've been cool, really cool, up 'till about two months ago." Hyde shrugged. "Figured she'd open her yap about the wedding when she was ready, like always... _shit."_ His eyes shut, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. He finally got it. "Maybe she's waiting for me to open mine. That would be just like her, playing a freakin' game, testing me one final time before—"

"You thinking of backing out, Hyde?" Kelso said. "'Cause you still have time to reclaim your freedom." He pointed to a stripper." You never have to say 'I don't' to other chicks unless you say 'I do.'"

Hyde shrugged again. "I _am_ free, man."

"By 'free,' you mean out of your damn mind?" Fez said.

"No, I mean _free._ "

"But you're with Jackie," Kelso said.

"Right," Hyde said. "Bein' with her and freedom's the same thing."

Kelso shook his head as if he didn't believe it. "Dude, Jackie's changed you."

"Whatever." Hyde's fist tightened around his empty glass. He was tempted to slam it into Kelso's skull.

"He's right," Forman said. "Jackie's made you soft, man."

"No, she's makes me hard and keeps me that way."

"That's not what I mean. The ass-kicking, raising hell Hyde is gone."

"Yeah?" Hyde motioned to a large-breasted waitress for his bill. "Then why am I gonna kick all of _your_ asses if you don't shut the hell up?"

"Speaking of ass, Hyde," Kelso said, "you don't even care that you've got a hot one being waved in your face."

Hyde turned to the stage. A stripper's toned, barely-covered ass was gyrating right in front of him. He handed Fez a dollar. "Give her this," he said.

Fez brushed the dollar against the stripper's thigh, and she twisted in his direction. "That's right," he said as she moved in front of him. "Dance for your king."

Kelso gasped. "You gave Fez that buck so the stripper would leave you alone!"

"No, I gave it to him 'cause Fez looked lonely," Hyde said.

"Jackie _has_ changed you," Kelso said glumly.

"Oh, Kelso, that is not new." Fez was gazing at the stripper intently, and his voice took on a dreamy quality. "Jackie started to do that when she cried her way to becoming Hyde's prom date."

The large-breasted waitress brought Hyde his bill, but Forman grabbed her before she could leave. "My friend here needs another beer," he said. "He's had two less than everyone else. It's making him say scary, delusional things."

Hyde ignored him and paid the bill. His friends were being dillholes, and he didn't need that shit. Not now. His life was finally fucking good, and if they couldn't get that, they could go screw themselves.

"Hey, where are you going?" Forman said as Hyde stood up.

"Home."

"So you can be Ward Cleaver to Jackie's June?"

"Get bent, Forman!" Hyde stalked off toward the nudie bar's exit and didn't look back.

* * *

The living room lights were on, and it was past eleven o'clock. "Jackie?" Hyde said but got no answer. She was probably in the bathroom. He locked the front door and dropped his keys on the bureau. Hopefully, her time at Donna's party had been better than his at the bar. He wandered past his rock posters and the claret-colored sofa to the window. Slivers of night eked through the blinds. He shuddered and suddenly felt very lonely. "Hey, Jackie!" he shouted.

Still no answer.

The cactus from Donna and Forman was sitting on the still, and he stuck his finger in the soil. Dry. He went to the kitchen and filled a glass with water. Then he returned to the cactus and watered it.

"Puddin'?"

He turned around. Jackie was standing in their bedroom doorway, wearing his black Zeppelin shirt, the one he'd given on her seventeenth birthday. A grin lit on his face, burning away the loneliness, and he moved toward her. Their hands found purchase each other's hips, drawing each other in for a kiss.

"I missed you," Jackie said afterward.

"Yeah, me, too." He kept his arms around her, needing to remain close. "Y'know," he said with a smirk, "that's the hottest you've looked in a shirt five-times too big for you."

She smiled coyly. "Is this what you want me to wear on our honeymoon?"

"Hell, yeah..." he slid his hand beneath the shirt and over her bare back, "as long as you got some slutty lingerie under it."

She pulled away before he could reach her shoulder blades. "We didn't go to a strip club for Donna's party," she said. "Donna didn't want to, so we went to a spa instead—and I asked the aestheticians if they thought I'd become ugly in the next five years. They all said no."

Hyde blew out a forceful breath and sat on the top edge of the sofa. "Look, I don't think you're gonna become an uggo, okay? And it's not like I'm gonna have my hair for the rest of my life."

She gasped. "You shut your mouth! Your dad has all his hair, and he's old."

"Whatever. Jackie, what I'm getting at is..." He glanced down at the hardwood floor. All he wanted to do was show her how he felt, but she needed his words. Always needed his damn words now. He glanced back up at her. "Yeah, I started making out with you 'cause I was bored and I thought you were hot, but you think I would've messed around with you just for that? I knew from the first time we swapped spit on the couch what I was getting myself into."

"'Getting yourself into'?" she said. Her eyes were spears, pointed in his direction. They were probably gonna run him through before he was finished speaking.

"I could've found someone who'd never nailed Kelso," he said. "That summer, a boatload of chicks hit in me. They were willing to do a lot dirtier things than we were doing—"

"Oh!" Jackie kicked him in the shin, and he doubled over. Even with her bare foot, her kicks hurt.

"Damn it!" He clutched his shin and peered up at her. "God help me, I started up with you 'cause I fuckin' felt something, okay? For a while. I was sick of having to crush it down. Since Kelso wasn't in the picture anymore, I figured, 'What the hell?'"

A purple firework sizzled in the air above Jackie's head, and now he knew what she was wearing under the Zeppelin shirt. Her eyes had softened. Her eager hands landed on his shoulders, and she kissed him greedily. More bright fireworks shot into the air, and he grabbed the hem of her shirt. But she pulled him toward the bedroom before he could get it off.

* * *

The bedroom was a dazzle of color as Jackie danced to no music and slowly dragged off her Zeppelin shirt. Steven sat on the edge of their bed while she stripped, and his hands gripped the comforter. She loved the heat in his eyes and the obvious tension in his body. They told her she was all he wanted.

A giant pink spark exploded between them as she finally removed the shirt. Fez was right about the magic lingerie; she was feeling all kinds of things. Colors burst all around her, and each eruption brought back her hottest moments with Steven, made her re-experience them. Their tryst in Echo lake, their makeout at the Ashby Country Club, the Valentine's Day he'd teased her with little touches but refused to do more until the night.

But he wasn't touching her now. He stayed on the bed, staring at her with what looked like disgust. No, it was the lingerie he was staring at. She glanced down at herself. The iridescent bra glowed red at the peaks of her breasts, and the panties flared bright white.

"Take it off," he said.

"But aren't you curious?" she said. "I mean, Fez told us—"

"I don't need any help knowing where your fun parts are." He gestured to the fading sparks around him. "And this is just... no."

She stuck out her bottom lip in a pout. "I think it's pretty,"

"Then you can have your own, personal Fourth of July, and I'll go sleep on the damn sofa."

"Fine." She removed the bra and tossed it into a corner. She slid off the panties next and kicked them into the same corner. "Happy?"

He answered her by standing, drawing her into a tight embrace, and pressing his lips to the most sensitive spot on her neck—right behind her earlobe. Her eyes drifted closed as his mouth left kiss after warm kiss on her skin, and she forgot all about the lingerie.

In moments, she was on the bed and beneath his mostly naked body. His kisses roamed all over her as if she were the countryside and he wanted to take in every vista. He explored the spaces between her fingers, the underside of her wrists. He toured the scar on her left knee and the valley between her breasts.

"This is better," he said into the skin above her bellybutton.

 _So_ much better. She clutched at his bare back as he sucked and licked her inner thigh. One of her most cherished things about him was he gave attention to every part of her body, made _all_ of her feel loved. Not just the obvious parts. But when he focused on the obvious parts, that was wonderful, too.

His face moved between her thighs, and his palms rested on her hips. She was able to lock fingers with him while his lips and tongue sent pleasure pulsing deep inside her. He varied his technique to make it last, and her head leaned back into the pillows.

"Oh, God," she said and squeezed his hands. "Steven..."

She climaxed amid a symphony of her own moans and Steven's own pleased exhalations, and she was glad not to be distracted by those magical fireworks. Being with him was more than enough.

He kissed his way back up to her collarbone, to the hollow of her neck, and then to her mouth. They made out for a while, and it delighted her. It always did, that he had enough energy afterward to kiss her.

"Puddin'," she said when he eventually stood from the bed, "don't go."

He nodded down at his boxers. "This isn't gonna take care of itself, Grasshopper."

She sat up and patted the sheets. "Let me." He began to object, but she said, "It's not 'payment,' baby. I want to."

He returned to the bed and kissed her again before lying down on his back. She crawled on top of him, positioning her hips over his covered erection. He'd told her long ago that he had no thoughts of reciprocation when he went down on her. He just wanted her to feel good, and it was one of the reasons she'd fallen in love with him.

She ground into him lightly while kissing the most sensitive spot of his own neck, right below his jawline where his pulse beat. His breath released heavily, and his hands buried themselves in her hair. His voice, though, remained silent until she slinked down his body and pulled off his boxers.

 _"Fuck,_ I love you," he let out, accompanied by soft, incredulous laughter. The sound of him lit her up like a cloudless sky, and the of sight of his erection made her hungry for him again.

She surrounded him with her mouth and worked him exactly how he liked it. His fingers grazed the top of her head—not pushing at her, but caressing her hair lightly. He didn't thrust at her either, but she knew his other hand was knotted up in the sheets to keep himself under control.

 _Steven,_ she thought and slid her palm over his warm stomach. It rose and fell beneath her hand. _Steven..._ His breathing was labored. His lungs were sucking in air desperately, _ecstatically_. It was amazing to her, absolutely amazing how happy his joy made her... and how different the experience of going down on him was than with Michael.

 _Stupid Michael._ She was barely sixteen when she first went down on him, and the idiot had "accidentally" released in her mouth. She swore she'd never go down on another boy as long as she lived. But Steven had never asked for it. She initiated their first time—and he called her up to him that first time before he'd climaxed.

She questioned him then, and he said, "I want to see you." So she returned to his eyes, and the look in them spurred tears in hers. It was clear his pleasure was mostly derived from _her,_ not from what she was doing to him, and she almost broke down in sobs that night. She was falling for him, too deeply, and she feared she couldn't crawl back out. But she didn't cry. She'd pulled herself together and kissed him until he came.

Now, his groans were growing louder and shorter, and she slowed down a little. "Jackie," he said, "Jackie, you better come up here—before I come down there." It was the first comprehensible sentence he'd spoken since she started on him.

He'd never climaxed in her mouth before, not once, always called her up to him when he was on the brink. And it made her curious. What would happen, besides the obvious, if she continued? How would he feel? Would he like it?

She kept her mouth on him and sped up.

"Jackie! _Now._ "It was an order, and she let him go. She crept back up and found him smiling despite his urgent tone. He cupped her face and questioned her with his eyes, but she kissed him gently. Her fingertips stroked his sideburns; she loved their rough feel on her smooth skin. Then she stroked lower until he came.

He cleaned them both up with damp paper towels. Afterward he said, "What the hell do you think you were doing?"

"I don't know." She tore the dirtied sheet off their bed and dumped it into their laundry bag. Then she left the room, still naked, and grabbed a fresh sheet from the linen closet. When she returned, Steven's gray sweatpants were on him, and he was glaring at her. "I thought..." She sighed. "I thought maybe you'd enjoy it more if I—"

"Told you a long time ago you never have to do that, okay? I'm not that kind of asshole."

"Puddin'..." She tossed the fresh sheet onto the bed and threw her arms around his waist. It took a moment for his hands to respond, but once they settled onto her back, she snuggled into him.

His cheek pressed softly into her temple. "Don't do it again," he said.

She held him tighter as a feeling of horror wormed its way into her heart. She kept acting on fleeting thoughts, on feelings that usually evaporated within moments of having them. It was as if a hidden part of herself had been exposed, like a sparking wire with its covering frayed off. She continually shocked herself, shocked _him._ She didn't want to, but she couldn't seem to stop.


	3. Trouble in Freedom Land

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. "Magic of Love" (P) 1982 Sony Music Entertainment Inc.

CHAPTER 3  
 **TROUBLE IN FREEDOM LAND**  


Eric couldn't breathe. Strong fingers were around his throat, strangling the life from him. Silver sparkles floated in the darkness surrounding his eyes. They were all he could see, but through that suffocating murk, Jackie's voice reached him: _"The comb! Use the damn comb!"_

Silver turned to gold. The spots of light elongated into sharp poisonous teeth. He grabbed the comb from his strangler's hair and scraped her neck.

"You cut me," a surprised voice coughs wracked Eric's body as he looked up. Laurie was standing before him, in a skin-bearing white gown. Blood smeared her hands. Her blood, poisoned by the comb. By him.

"I'm sorry." He covered his mouth. "Oh, God. Laurie—"

They were inside the ballroom of Fez's castle. Unconscious bodies blanketed the marble floor—royalty from all over the Nine Kingdoms, put to sleep by Hyde's brew. Eric had no mind for them. Only Laurie, who smiled at him without hatred. All traces of Snow White's Evil Stepmother were gone.

"Laurie," he said again. He reached for her, but she turned away. One shuffling step, then two... and she collapsed to her knees. "Laurie!" She fell completely to the floor. He dashed to her and grabbed the collar of her gown. "Don't die!" he pleaded. "You can't die! Come on, you've gotta know who you are!"

"Too late, bro." Her eyes were open and bright. The Evil Stepmother's darkness no longer clouded them. "Too late..." her voice echoed as her body shuddered. Her eyelids drooped closed.

"No!" Eric shook her. Kept on shaking her. She had to wake up.

"Forman,"Hyde's voice said from somewhere. "She's _done._ "

"No!" Eric shut his eyes and hugged Laurie's still-warm body to himself. "No!"

She disappeared from his arms, and his eyes popped open. He was lying flat on his back, in the quiet of his childhood bedroom. From the shelf above his bed, Luke Skywalker's tiny plastic head stared at him.

"Eric?" A warm hand glided over his stomach and stopped on his chest. "My God. Your heart's going, like, a million miles a minute."

He touched his forehead. It was covered in sweat. He should've been used to the dreams by now, but he wasn't. Never would be.

Donna's equally warm body replaced the hand on his chest. She was looking down at him, arms supporting herself on either side of his shoulders. "You had a nightmare, didn't you?"

"What, me? Nightmare?" he said. He swallowed then offered a smile. "I don't have nightmares, Donna. You know that."

"Then why'd you scream, 'No'?"

"Because," he slid his hands around her bare back, "I was dreaming about what we did together last night, and it was a shout of astonishment. I still can't believe you stripped for me."

"Mm-hmm..." she said, sounding unconvinced, but she lowered herself so their faces were only an inch apart. "I love you, Eric. You do know that, right? And you can tell me anything."

He swallowed again, "Yeah..." and stroked the back of her hair. "Yeah."

* * *

Breakfast this morning was a strange affair, and Eric didn't quite know what to make of it. Hyde and Jackie had arrived from Kenosha, suitcases in hand, just as everyone sat down. They were staying in Hyde's old room in the basement, to keep from driving back-and-forth the next few days. But Eric had expected them around noon, not 7:30 in the morning.

Hyde dropped the suitcases and his old duffel bag in front of the kitchen's bar, and Jackie smacked his chest. "Be careful, Steven! I've got important things in there that can't be jostled."

He grunted in answer. His sunglasses were on, and he pulled up a seat next to Red.

"Oh, don't you _dare_ act all cranky at me," Jackie said. "I know how much you love Mrs. Forman's food." She was carrying only one suitcase, pink, and she placed it down gently before sitting next to Donna—as far from Hyde as possible.

"I like sleep more." Hyde took off his sunglasses and hooked them on his collar. _"'Steven, you have to get up!'"_ He was using his high-pitched Jackie-voice. _"'Get up. Get up. Get up.'_ Man, she kept poking me in the chest until I rolled out of bed. I wanted to bite her damn finger off."

Donna chuckled. "And just think, Hyde, you've got a whole lifetime of that to look forward to."

Hyde nodded, raising his eyebrows as if to say, "Great."

"Well, I'm glad Jackie forced you to get here early," Kitty said from the stove. "Sometimes a wife has to make her husband do things he doesn't want to do—so he can be happier in the long run."

"That's right," Red said. "And sometimes a husband's gotta say, 'Screw—'" Kitty glared at him, "'that lightbulb in, so we can see what we're doing...'" He gave up the cover. "Oh, hell."

"It's okay, honey," Kitty said and turned her attention to Jackie. "It's all about balance. There's a time to push—"

"Nag," Eric whispered to Hyde, who grinned back.

"—and a time to back off." Kitty gathered the pancakes she'd made onto a giant plate and hummed cheerfully as she served everyone. She took a plate of sausages next, but Eric grabbed it from her and loaded his own plate.

"Quit hoggin' them," Hyde said. He stretched an arm toward Eric's plate and stabbed a sausage with his fork.

A growl surfaced in Eric's throat, but he let Hyde take two sausages from him. Six were left on his plate, after all. More than enough.

"Sweetie," Kitty said, "that's an awful lot of heart-clogging meat."

"Mom, I need it for my workouts. You know, _protein._ Can't build muscle without it."

Red gestured to himself. "Hand over some of those sausages before my foot builds a muscle in your ass."

Eric sighed but returned three of the sausages to the serving plate.

Kitty sat down next to Red, and Red's annoyance faded. He gave her a kiss on the lips before taking a sausage.

Eric," Jackie whispered across Donna, "make your parents stop."

"Stop what?" Eric said and poured maple syrup on his pancakes.

Red scooted his chair closer to Kitty's and gave her a quick, sideways hug. Then they began to eat.

_"That,"_ Jackie said. "'Old people'-love is nauseating."

Eric nodded. Couldn't disagree with that, but his parents seemed happier than they'd been in years. They seemed... _in_ love.

"Well, I think it's cute," Donna said and took a bite of pancake.

"Thank you, Donna," Kitty said. "I'm sure you and Eric will have as many great years together as me and Red are having—" she clapped her hands,."because you're getting married this Saturday! Oh, I can't wait."

Red smiled that small, terse smile of his in Eric's direction. "Yeah, if the dumbass actually shows up this time."

"He will, Red." Kitty patted Red's leg. "Right, Eric?"

"Of course I will," Eric said, trying to sound authoritative, but his voice broke like a teenage boy's—d _amn it._ For all the convicted, magical felons he'd faced in Snow White Memorial Prison, his parents still intimidated him worse than any of them had.

"Hey," Hyde reached across the table to give Jackie the blueberry syrup, "you gonna eat anything or just keep staring at your ring?"

She took the syrup absently and put it down. Her eyes were focused on the sky-blue diamond of her engagement ring. "Whatever." She stood up and headed for the basement stairs. Her pancakes remained untouched.

"Crap." Hyde's fork clanked to his plate. He followed her but carried his pancakes with him.

"What's wrong with them?" Red said.

_"Come back and believe my love,"_ a soft, feminine voice sang in answer. _"Come back, and believe the magic of love."_

Donna slapped her right hand over her left, muffling her engagement ring. _"Now_ it sings Joplin?" she whispered, and Eric stared at Donna. "Why are you singing at breakfast?"

"Uh..." Donna smiled sheepishly, "to ease the tension?"

"That's sweet," Kitty said. "And, my, your voice has improved since those Old Maine musicals you used to act in!" She laughed, filling the kitchen with her loud, "Hahahahahaha!"

_"Oh, I want the light without the darkness,"_ the ring sang through Donna's fingers. _"I want the sky without the sun!"_

Donna pulled off the ring and stuffed it in her pants pocket. Then she cleared her throat. "Sorry. Just had to finish that lyric. Those things stick with you if you don't get them out."

Kitty nodded. "Oh, I understand. I once had 'The Great Pretender' stuck in my head for a whole week."

"Yeah, and then I had it stuck in _my_ head for two," Red said, and Kitty inhaled a deep breath as if she were going to sing. He put up his hand. "Let's not start that again, okay?"

She rubbed his shoulder. "I was only teasing."

Red didn't grimace, like he used to do. Instead, he brushed Kitty's cheek affectionately, which prompted Donna to slide her hand over Eric's knee.

"I hope we're like that at their age," she whispered.

Eric fed her a piece of pancake in response.

* * *

Houseplants of all kinds packed the basement, and Hyde now knew where Donna and Forman's housewarming gift came from. Most of the plants were in large clay pots on the floor. A small fern sat on the spool table next to a spray bottle. A book titled _House Plants and You: How to Cultivate a Green_ _Thumb_ lay on the couch. Forman had a new hobby, apparently, and the ceiling was outfitted with fluorescent lighting. Red must have installed it. Too bad they weren't into growing another kind of plant.

"Stay away from me," Jackie said. She was halfway to his old room, bolting.

"Jackie," he said, and she stopped but didn't turn around. "What's your freakin' problem, man?" He jabbed his fork into one of his pancakes then crammed half of it into his mouth. "I drove us here like you wanted."

_"My_ problem?" Her back was still to him. "I risked making you angry—at _me—_ so you could be happy this morning, and all I get is a grunt as a thank-you."

His fingers clenched the plate of pancakes. "I would've been fine making breakfast myself—and sleeping the hell in. A week off from work shouldn't be work."

"That's not the point." She turned around and marched up to him. He tried to take another bite of his pancakes, but she snatched the plate from his hands. "If you let yourself, if you finally let go, you could be... " She shoved the plate back at him, "Never mind," and started for his room again.

He put the plate down on the spool table, rushed forward and grasped Jackie's arm. "Okay," he turned her back around, "you wanna tell me what all this shit's really about? One second, everything's cool between us. The next, it's like you hate my damn guts."

Her eyes widened as if he'd spooked her. "No. No, Steven." Her hand went to his cheek. Her touch was warm, but he didn't lean into it like he normally would have. "I love you," she said and laughed a sad kind of laugh. "God, it hurts sometimes how much."

She was gazing at him with an emotion he couldn't place. He took her hand away from his cheek and kissed the top of her fingers. "Then what is it, doll?" he said. "What the hell is wrong?"

"Why don't you play more?"

He stared at her dumbly and let her hand slip from him.

"You used to play with me, Steven. Used to start up games of tag on the street and pick me up for piggyback rides and feed me French fries..."

Hyde's muscles tensed, but he kept his voice level. "I still do those things."

"Then I can't feel them—your joy in them.

"Yeah? Well, how's that my problem?" He crossed his arms and bit back the anger rising in his throat. Just yesterday, man, _he_ was the one trying to loosen her up. Dancing her around their living room. If that wasn't playing, he didn't know what was. If his smiles, so rare before she came into his life, didn't tell her how much she affected him...

"And it's not just that," she said and clutched his arms above the elbows. "I don't ever know if you're sad."

"What?"

"Do you even feel sadness, Steven? The only things I'm sure of with you anymore are anger and indifference, lust or love. And there are _way_ more emotions than those."

He pulled away from her as a wave of nausea swept through him. _Feelings. Emotions._ The words alone made him sick. "You want me to be like fuckin' Forman?" he said.

"God, no. I just want you to stop shutting yourself off so much," she stepped toward him again, "because you don't have to. Not with me. I want you to feel the things you feel— " she tapped the middle of his chest, " _all the way,_ like I do."

He grinned smugly. "Does that mean you'll take it up the—"

"No, you pig! That's not what I meant. I mean I want you to—"

"Jackie..." He began to relax, his muscles easing out of defense-mode. He laced his fingers at the small of her back, and the warmth there relaxed him further. "I know what you meant, but I'm at full capacity. Anything more and I _will_ be Forman."

"If that's true—" Her voice caught. "I just want you to be happy, Steven."

"I'd be a whole lot happier if you'd quit talking about this," he said, and her gaze lowered to the floor. "Damn it—my life's ended up a hell of a lot better than I thought it would, okay?" He gave her back a little squeeze, and she looked up at him. "Okay?"

Her mouth opened slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but no sound came out. She seemed confused until she finally spoke again. "It's my job to be aware of the things you aren't about yourself. So I can point them out and help you grow."

"No, your job is to be fine with the way I am."

"Just like you were fine with the way _I_ was when we first got together?" She pushed away from him and ended up at the basement shower. A large plant, like a mini palm tree, rested by the curtain. Tahiti had palm trees... "Steven, I read all those stupid, scary books you give me to read. I listen to your dumb rants about corporations and the government, play boring chess with you and go to those awful punk concerts and—"

He cut her off with a kiss. She was working her way into a hyperventilation fit, and she was pissing him off, big-time. Yeah, she'd thought the books were scary, but not stupid. She actually agreed with some of his so-called "dumb rants" and liked chess once she'd gotten the hang of it. And at those concerts, she rocked out, hot as he'd ever seen her.

The bull she'd spouted urged him to separate from her, yell, _Fuck off!_ but he cradled the back of her head instead and deepened the kiss, forcing himself to love her. Because he did love her, more than this petty shit. But if she didn't start to relax or let it go... they were gonna have a problem.

Serenity washed over Jackie's face once they parted, but only for a moment. "If I needed help I didn't know I needed," she said, "I'd want you to figure out some way of giving it to me."

"Even if you didn't want it?"

"Especially."

Hyde glanced at the spool table. _The spray bottle._ He grabbed it and doused her face with water.

"Steven!" She used the couch for cover and snatched its ratty green blanket. She used the blanket as a towel, blotting her dripping forehead and cheeks. "Why the hell did you do that?"

"Thought you needed it."

_"Ugh!"_ She tossed the blanket back on the couch and stomped to the wooden staircase. He followed her.

"Jackie, come on."

She charged up the stairs.

"It was a joke."

She flipped him the bird.

"Hey, you said you wanted me to play more! So I'm playing!"

She ignored him, and they emerged into the kitchen. Breakfast seemed about over. Forman, Donna, Red, and Mrs. Forman's plates were mostly empty. "Donna," Jackie said on her way to the suitcases, "we have to go to your house."

Donna laughed incredulously. "What?"

_"Now,"_ Jackie said. She grabbed her pink suitcase and opened the sliding door. "Get off your pancake-eating, lumberjack butt and let's go!"

"Oh, yeah. That's real endearing," Donna said, but Jackie was already outside and tapping her foot.

Hyde's arms felt heavy and his head, too—hell, his whole body did. "Donna," he said quietly, and the worn tone of his own voice startled him, "could you go with her?"

"Oh," Donna seemed startled by his voice, too, "sure, Hyde." She gave Forman a kiss and stood from the table. "But if she takes her anger at you out on _me—_ let's say, by trying to 'alter' my wedding dress with a pair of scissors—" she patted Hyde's cheek, "I'm kicking your ass."

"Fair enough." He sat at the table and watched her join Jackie outside. When they were gone, he pulled Jackie's uneaten plate of now-cold pancakes to himself and poured some blueberry syrup on them.

"Trouble in 'Freedom Land'?" Forman said with a smirk.

"Shut up, Forman," Hyde said cut into his pancakes.

* * *

Donna followed Jackie's charge into the Pinciotti living room.

"I need your opinion, Donna," Jackie said, standing in front of the powder blue couch. She unzipped the front pocket of her suitcase. Then she removed three brochures and put them on the glass coffee table. They all had the words "Study Abroad" on the front, each with a different picture—the Eiffel Tower, the Thames River, and the Roman Colosseum.

Donna sat on the couch and picked up the Eiffel Tower brochure. "Broaden your horizons at the Sorbonne," the inner flap read.

"If you were going to study a year in Europe, where would you go?" Jackie said. "I've narrowed it down to Paris, London, and Rome."

"Paris," Donna said.

Jackie snatched the brochure from her hands and tossed it like a Frisbee across the living room. "Thanks. That narrows it down to two."

Donna took no offense at the insult. She was used to it, and she browsed through the Italian brochure. "You're thinking of studying abroad? Is that what you and Hyde were fighting about?"

"Oh, no. He doesn't know. I haven't even applied yet."

"Why are you gonna apply at all?" Donna said. "He won't be able to go with you."

Jackie nodded. "Exactly. Donna, I've never really been without a man, y'know?" She wiggled the fingers of her left hand, and lamp light glinted off her engagement ring. "Now that I have the guarantee Steven wants to be in my life forever, I need to know what it's like being on my own."

"Okay..." Donna put down the brochure and gave her friend a sideways glance. "I'm all for women being independent, but you're engaged. You're allowed to rely on Hyde for support. That's part of what being in a relationship means."

"Oh, you poor girl..." Jackie rubbed Donna's knee. "You poor, naïve, engaged-to-Eric girl. I want to be a full woman for Steven, one who's not reliant on anyone but herself."

"Believe me, you're fuller with him than without him."

"No, you don't understand. He's keeping things from me, keeping _himself_ from me. And I think it's because he doesn't believe I can handle it."

Donna clutched the couch cushions, jolted by Jackie's words. They'd shot straight through her brain like a super-charged arrow. "You know what? I understand more than you think. Ever since we got back from Fez's castle, Eric's been weird—"

"Eric's always weird. And Eric-y. And _eww._ " Jackie gathered up the brochures and stuffed them back into her suitcase. "And he's probably just nervous about your wedding. Although, he should consider himself lucky your standards are so low."

"Shut up, Jackie!" Donna shoved herself from the couch. "God, you can be such a bitch sometimes."

Jackie clapped a hand over her mouth and froze. "Oh, my God," she eventually said. "Donna, I'm so sorry. You're right. You're—I'm just..." She seemed frightened, but then her focus shifted to her engagement ring, to its sky-blue diamond.

"Jackie?" Donna sat next to her again and clasped her shoulder. "Hey, frowns that deep will give you permanent wrinkles."

"Huh?" Jackie looked up from the ring. Her eyes were glassy, but they sharpened quickly. "Seriously, about Eric—he's been through a lot."

"I know, but he won't talk about it with—"

"Let me finish." Jackie fluffed her chin-length hair, combed her fingers through it. "He's growing up, Donna. He's becoming a real man and less like a really masculine girl." She stopped fussing with her hair and held Donna with her gaze. "And real men—like Steven or Mr. Forman—don't like to share the things they've been through. It makes them feel vulnerable, y'know?"

Her voice suddenly grew dreamy, and her hand glided through the air as if presenting the ideas in her mind. "They've had to be so strong to protect the women they love. Their beautiful women with eyes like burnt umber and skin as creamy as a—"

"Jackie..."

"Right. My point is, Eric killed his sister. His evil, slutball of a—" Jackie shook her head, as if clearing her thoughts. "If he starts talking about it, he'll start _feeling_ it. And who can blame him for not wanting to do that?"

"Wow..." Donna was impressed, but her fingers dug between the cushions, "how did you figure that one out?"

"I've had a lot more experience with a real man than you have. Steven refuses to talk about certain things, mostly about how he grew up. I know some details, like his parents were drunks. They used to forget him in the mall or the grocery store. And his horrible mother kept bringing home strange men after his stepdad abandoned them. But there's so much more to it. I just feel it..." she patted her heart, _"right here._ And it hurts. It's almost like I'm feeling the pain he's refusing to share with me."

"Are you sure it's not just gas?" Donna said, and Jackie glared at her. "I mean, you've..."

Donna silenced herself. It had been months since they'd seen each other, and Jackie appeared heavier. Not much, but enough for Donna to notice. Strange, though, that she hadn't noticed yesterday. Maybe it was the strapless dress Jackie had on today. Or maybe last night she'd eaten something with a lot of salt after the party—or maybe she was pregnant. But mentioning any of that...

Donna didn't have a death wish.

Jackie's hand was still over her heart, and Donna returned to the main topic. "I feel the same way about Eric. I just don't know what to do about it."

"You have to _make_ him talk to you." Jackie clenched a fist and slammed it into her palm. "Even if it takes some drastic measures. My basic tactics should work real well on Eric. Just kick him in the shin until he opens up."

"And that works _so_ well on Hyde," Donna said. "If I kick Eric's shin, it'll break in two."

"Then begin with pinching," Jackie said and shrugged. "My usual tactics don't work on Steven anymore. I've been trying new things on him because he's not happy, not fully. And he should be overflowing with happiness because he has _me._ But I don't think he knows how..." Her expression brightened. "That's it! I'll _teach_ him."

"Uh, Jackie..."

"No, no, Donna. Listen. He's taught me so many things, and I've already taught him a lot of stuff, too. So I'll teach him how to let himself feel more—because I don't want him ending up like Eric's dad."

"Bald?"

"No, a miserable grump."

"Red seems pretty happy to me lately," Donna said. "And pushing Hyde to do something that isn't natural for him? That's the same as pushing him away. Eric, though... it _is_ natural for him to share how he feels. What's wrong with him?"

"Donna, focus!" Jackie said and slapped Donna's leg. "Steven _needs_ to be pushed. I'm not doing my job as his fiancée and future wife otherwise. He's gonna be happier than he's ever been—even if I have to make him miserable to do it."

"Well, that's going to end well."

Jackie smiled. "I'm glad you think so. Now onto you and Eric..."

"Thank you!" Donna sat up straight and listened intently. Jackie usually had decent advice about relationships, despite her current plan for Hyde.

"Have you ever done it with him," she started, "where you're both kneeling on the floor? He's behind you, and his arms wrap around your bare stomach. You lean your head back on his chest, and he—"

_"Eww!_ Jackie!" Donna scooted to the edge of the couch, as far from Jackie as possible. "I don't want to hear about your doggy-style sexcapades!" She blushed at the high-pitch of her own voice, but Jackie didn't seem fazed at all.

"It's not doggy style, you goon! Nothing like it. It's so much more intimate than that. And Steven opens right up—well, more like he lets me know how he feels. He has a hard time censoring his words—or his sounds—in that position. You get to look into each other's eyes, unlike doggy sty—"

"Okay, we are _so_ done with this conversation," Donna said and stood up. "Eric and I are fine. I'll just kick his shins."

"Great!" Jackie stood up with her. "Now you can make me some breakfast."

"What?"

"I didn't get to eat Mrs. Forman's pancakes because Steven was being a jerk. I'm feeling kind of dizzy."

"Oh, uh..." Donna snuck a glimpse at Jackie's stomach; maybe she really was pregnant. "I think we've got some frozen waffles."


	4. No Such Thing as Happy Ever After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 4  
 **NO SUCH THING AS HAPPY EVER AFTER**  


Hyde spent the morning driving around in the Camino, trying to clear his head about Jackie.

He'd intersected a few times with Forman, who was out for his daily jog. Hyde honked at Forman's shorts-clad legs. Stuck his head out the window and called, "Hey, pretty lady! How much you chargin'?" But the fruity outfit aside, he was impressed by Forman's exercise ethic. Forman had bulked up considerably during the last eight months. Couldn't call him scrawny anymore. Wiry, maybe. But Forman had muscle and some semblance of a chest now.

None of that helped Hyde, though, where Jackie was concerned. She had to be pregnant. It was the only explanation for her nutty behavior. He'd dismissed the idea many times, mostly because she hadn't gained any weight. But today... _man,_ she looked heavier.

She wasn't around when he returned to the Formans. Not upstairs in the bedrooms or in the plant-infested basement. He found Kelso and Fez, however, on the basement couch. A can of Pringles potato chips sat between them, and plastic shopping bags lay at their feet, all stuffed with Pringles cans.

"You can't get these in the Nine Kingdoms," Kelso said. He crammed a stack of chips into his mouth.

Fez pointed to the television. "Or watch _The Price Is Right."_

"Okay." Hyde slid on his shades and stole a can of Pringles from the plastic bags. Kelso and Fez didn't notice. They were too busy ogling Barker's Beauties, the models presenting the game show's prizes. It was nice to see. Kelso and Fez lived lives Hyde could no longer relate to—one he didn't _want_ to relate to—but now they were acting like his old friends.

Wordlessly, Hyde sat in his chair and munched on potato chips, but he didn't enjoy the show. Reminded him too much of Jackie. Fortunately, Forman joined them a few minutes later. He'd come from upstairs in normal street clothes. His hair was wet like he'd taken a shower, but before Forman had a chance to speak, Kelso sprang into action. His leather knapsack flew onto his lap. He yanked a white envelope from it, jumped off the couch, and shoved the envelope into Forman's hands.

"'Hello' to you, too," Forman said and opened the envelope. "Oh. One of my wedding invitations."

"You gotta answer a question for me—" Kelso gestured to the potted plants all around the basement. "Okay, _two_ questions. One, why does this place look like the Disenchanted Forest?"

"My mom picked up a new hobby," Forman said with a shrug.

"All right, then," Kelso put on his deep, affected cop voice, "question number two: Who the hell is Reginald?" He flicked the wedding invitation. "'Cause it says here you're his son. Did your mom finally confess to cheating on Red with a really skinny guy? Things would make a lot more sense—"

Forman punched Kelso's arm, and Kelso cried out in pain.

"Damn, Eric! When'd you get so strong?" Kelso was clutching his shoulder. "That actually hurt."

Hyde smirked. "The duck's become a weight-lifting teddy bear."

Forman sat on the couch's arm and returned the invite to its envelope. "Reginald is Red. My grandma gave him the nickname... because of his hair, I guess."

"What hair?" Kelso said then clapped a hand over his mouth. His voice became a hushed whisper. "You mean, his pubes?"

Forman frogged Kelso a second time, and Kelso ran to the other side of the couch.

"Hey," Kelso shouted, "don't make me get my sword!" and lowered his voice again. "So, was it 'cause of his pubes?"

"Red did have hair on his head once..." Fez said, "right, Eric?"

"From what I've heard in the legends," Forman said.

Hyde's skin prickled. Forman was joking, but his use of the word "legends" made Hyde want to hit something. Instead, he tightened his hand around the Pringles can and mashed a few chips into his mouth.

"Fez," Forman said after a moment, "did you get the invitations to Acorn and Clayface?"

Fez nodded. "Oh, yes. My castle guard has been informed of who is allowed to pass through the Traveling mirror."

"Great," Hyde mumbled, and Forman looked at him. "Yeah, I'm sure your parents are gonna understand why a metal-toothed Dwarf and a Goblin are at your wedding, man."

Forman pushed out an exasperated breath. "Kelso and I would still be stuck in Snow White Memorial Prison if not for them. And Acorn helped me in the Deadly Swamp—" He shook his head. "Look, if _you_ want to forget we ever went through the mirror, that's your business. But I can't. Believe me, I've tried, but you can't unlearn things like that—no matter what a short, green, Jedi Master says."

"Whatever." Hyde put down the Pringles can and crossed his arms.

"Yeah..." Forman turned away from him. "So, Fez, what's it like being King? Do you go to a lot of royal banquets and have royal wenches serving you royal candy and royal... _other_ things?"

Hyde stared at the back of Forman's head, but he tried to block out Fez's answer with _The Price Is Right_. He failed miserably.

"Yes," Fez said, "but it is also a lot of responsibility. Especially now." His tone grew sad, and Hyde tore his gaze from Forman's head and focused on the TV. "A childhood friend of mine has been murdered, Queen Gretel the Third."

"Oh, man," Forman said, "I'm sorry."

"She ruled the southern half of the Second Kingdom," Fez continued, "and it is a mess. Gretel had no heir or family, and she left me stewardship of her kingdom. Ai... and now I have inherited all its problems."

"Just like a chick to stick you with the bill," Hyde muttered.

Fez popped a potato chip into his mouth and chewed while he spoke. "Thirty years ago there was a civil war between the south and north kingdoms. It has left most of the Second Kingdom without men. Well, _human_ men. Male wolves are abundant."

Forman swallowed. "W—wolves? Like the one who attacked Donna?"

"Yes. And I have a murder to solve, a sovereign to designate, a Pie and Candy Expo to judge—" Fez waved his hand in the air, as if brushing it all away. "But I am here now and not King. And I will enjoy the bridesmaid-whores at your wedding."

Hyde stood up. He'd heard enough of this shit. Saving Fez from Laurie—from _the Evil Queen_ who'd possessed her—hadn't led to "Happily ever after". Not that Hyde believed it would have. No such thing existed, no matter how much Jackie kept trying to convince him otherwise.

"Hyde, where are you going?" Kelso called from the couch.

"Private circle, man," Hyde said. He was halfway to his old room, but Kelso dashed in front of him.

"No, wait. I brought something special back so we could all have a circle."

Hyde tried to get by him, "Thanks, but no thanks. I had enough Dwarf moss to last a freakin' lifetime," but Kelso dragged him back to the couch.

"It's not Dwarf moss," Kelso said. "You don't even smoke it." He ushered Hyde to his chair, and Hyde sat reluctantly.

Fez dragged the lawn chair to the spool table. He sat down with a big smile while Forman flopped onto the couch cushions. Kelso removed the fern from the table and was about to chuck it when Forman said, "Whoa, whoa, Kelso. You can't just throw my mom's plants around. You've gotta treat them like a lady."

"That's what he was doing, Forman," Hyde said. "When he gets bored with one chick, he tosses her out and gets another."

"Sometimes two or three," Kelso said with a grin, but he placed the fern back on the table and sat next to Forman. "All right, you guys, I'm gonna introduce you to something awesome."

He opened his knapsack and removed a wadded-up piece of cloth. He un-wadded it with his fingertips, and inside was a denim-blue pebble the size of a marble.

"What the hell is that?" Hyde said.

"This is Wolfsbane," Kelso said, "usually used by Red Caps to combat wolves in the Second Kingdom."

"Yeah," Hyde said through gritted teeth, "that tells me nothing. What's it do?"

"On wolves, paralyzes them. Or kills them if they eat it. On humans?" Kelso's eyes lit up. "Just wait 'til you feel it, man." He glanced over at Fez, who nodded his approval. "You gotta be careful with it, though. If you crush it, your skin'll absorb the powder—and then you'll kind of lose it, and then _you'll_ be paralyzed for a while."

"Sounds kind of risky," Forman said.

"Oh, it's worth the risk." Kelso grinned again. "Sex is ridiculous after touching one of these things. Yeah, there's always the chance you'll go numb or end up a stiff—"

"But you do not become unconscious," Fez said. "You are still aware of everything that happens around you, but you can't speak or move or feel."

Forman stared at the blue pebble as if he were entranced. "Like being in Mr. Kent's history class back in Old Maine."

"Super," Hyde said.

"It is." Kelso plucked the pebble from the cloth and held it in his palm. His eyes shut, and he erupted into laughter. Hell, he was _giggling._ Like a freakin' school girl.

"You sound like a chick, man," Hyde said, which made Kelso laugh harder. _Huh._ Now Hyde was curious. "Jackie told me you got a small dick."

"Dick?" Kelso said. "It rhymes with chick!" His laughter shook his body, and Fez scooped the pebble out of his hand.

"You will go numb," Fez said, "if you hold it too—" A wave of giggles crashed into his speech. "If you hold it too..."

Hyde looked over at Forman. His focus was still on the pebble.

"Why did the chicken cross the road," Fez managed to spit out.

Kelso's face contorted as he tried to contain his laughter, and his answer came out a strangled croak. "Why?"

"To get to the—to the chicken-whore!" Fez said.

Kelso slapped the table, and he laughed until he hiccuped.

"Wait," Hyde said, "that thing made you find Fez's lame-ass joke funny? I gotta try this." He reached across the table and swiped the Wolfsbane from Fez's hand.

The pebble tickled Hyde's palm, and the sensation spread up his arm. It sunk deep into his body, causing giggles to rise in his throat. He clamped his mouth shut, but it was no use. "Crap," he said, but that brought forth stronger giggles. "Crap!" and laughter exploded in his belly.

His body had become over-sensitized. He could sense each hair on his head, every eyelash. Blinking felt nice... _really_ nice. So did breathing and the way his stomach contracted in laughter. He had a theory, and after Forman took the pebble from him, Hyde ripped a leaf off Mrs. Forman's fern. He dragged it along his cheek, and his skin began to tingle, as if Jackie were kissing him.

"H—holy shit," he said as blood rushed into his groin. "That's the first time a plant's made me horny."

"Everything makes me horny—" Kelso said somewhat calmly, "except dudes... and fat chicks." Then he burst into more laughter. "Fat chicks! With dicks!"

"It's the Wolfsbane," Fez said. "It makes you feel everything a thousand times more... until you feel nothing anymore. Ooh, that could be a song!" He began to sing.

Hyde stroked his wrist with the leaf, and pleasure crackled through his veins like lightning. "Hey, is that thing safe for fetuses?"

He received no answer, and he wasn't sure why he'd asked. His mind was hazy, but Kelso said, "Guys, guys, look at Eric!"

Forman was sitting stiffly on the couch with the Wolfsbane pebble in his palm. His eyes were dilated and unblinking..

"Forman." Hyde snapped his fingers in front of Forman's face.

No reaction, and Hyde's laughter blasted out like gunfire. Kelso and Fez were laughing, too, just as loudly.

"He—he never could hold his beer or his smoke," Hyde said, "and now Wolfsbane, man!"

He leaned back in his chair, and his hands went to his bouncing stomach. Tears were in his eyes, but once his laughter died down, he grabbed the pebble from the statue-like Forman.

"Oh!" Hyde blurted as his body received a fresh infusion of sensation. He wrapped the pebble carefully in the hem of his shirt and kept a loose fist around it. "I gotta find Jackie. See you freaks later." He stumbled to the wooden staircase and climbed, cackling the whole way up.

In the kitchen, Jackie and Mrs. Forman both stood behind the stove. They were cooking something in a pot, and its spicy-sweet smell wafted deep into Hyde's nostrils.

"Is there ginger in that," he said, pointing to the pot. He was still laughing, but he tried to keep it down.

"Yes," Mrs. Forman said. "I'm teaching Jackie how to make squash soup."

"There's honey in there, too. There's gotta be." Hyde watched as Jackie stirred the pot. Her movements, coupled with the soup's smell, were intoxicating. "And nutmeg..."

"My, your sense of smell has gotten as good as Eric's!" Mrs. Forman said. "Are you jogging, too?"

A burst of his laughter answered her.

"Steven, what's so funny?" Jackie said.

"Fez told a joke."

"Oh, what joke?" Mrs. Forman said.

"Why did the chicken cross the road?" Hyde said, laughing even harder. Now he understood why Kelso had cracked up. "To—to get to the chicken-whore!"

Jackie and Mrs. Forman stared at each other. "That's not funny," Jackie said. "That's stupid."

"It sure is," Hyde said. The kitchen's sliding door was slightly ajar, and a breeze swept in, making all the hairs on his arm stand up. His skin was buzzing with sensation. "Jackie," he grasped her hand, "we have to talk." The buzz grew into a vibrating thrum where he touched her.

"But I'm learning how to make your favorite soup—"

He pulled her around the stove and counter. "We gotta talk, Jackie," he repeated. His other hand still held onto the Wolfsbane wrapped in his shirt. The thin fabric served as a barrier between his skin and the pebble.

Down in the basement, Kelso and Fez continued to laugh riotously—and Forman remained a stiff. But Forman now had the Stupid Helmet on him, and his cheeks were bright green. They'd been colored with a marker. Fern leaves stuck out of his shirt collar, and Kelso and Fez were both drawing on his arms.

"What's going on?" Jackie said. "Why is Eric letting those idiots do that to him?"

"Forman's just bein' typical Forman," Hyde said, and a fit of giggles followed. He led Jackie to his old room, shut the door behind them, and turned on the bare bulb.

She tapped his back, sending a pleasurable jolt into his muscles. "Are you giggling?"

"No," he said but giggled again.

A dishrag and a packet of seeds covered the ottoman. Jackie brushed them to the floor and sat down. "How much did you smoke? Wait—" her brow furrowed, "Michael didn't bring you back Dwarf moss, did he?"

"No, man. No." His laughter had thinned to chuckles. The effect of the Wolfsbane was finally wearing off.

"Why are you holding your shirt like that?"

"That's what we gotta talk about. Actually, I gotta show you..."

He shut his eyes and tried to clear the haze from his mind. When he reopened them, the extra pounds Jackie had gained—seemingly overnight—stole his attention. She was heavier but still beautiful. _Fuck,_ she was beautiful. The dress she wore hugged her slightly fuller hips, and her exposed shoulders gleamed in the light from bare bulb. And her hair's red highlights shone in the light, too—

Red highlights? He blinked. "Jackie, did you dye your hair?"

She scoffed, as if the very question were an insult. "My hair is a perfect shade of chocolate brown."

"Right." His chuckles weakened into a smile. He didn't give a crap about her hair at the moment—despite its silky texture between his fingers, its lavender scent... _Damn it._ He pinched his own arm, and the Wolfsbane-enhanced pain focused him. "So," he said, "are you pregnant?"

"I'm on the Pill, Steven. Why are you even asking?"

"Yeah, but you've..." He couldn't bring himself to say it, to tell her she was looking... _plumper._ "Maybe you missed one, and some of my swimmers reached the goal."

"I'm not pregnant. I had my period last week." She crossed her arms on the ottoman. "I know you don't want children. I wouldn't do that to you." Then her hands dropped limply to her lap. She was frowning, and her eyes glinted wetly. "And even though I really want kids someday, I want you more."

Her voice, its sadness, constricted around Hyde's heart like a noose. It choked out the remaining effects of the Wolfsbane, and all he wanted now was to drive the sadness from her. The bureau beside his cot was plant-free, and he tossed his shades onto it.

"You gotta feel this, doll." He opened the fist surrounding the Wolfsbane, keeping his shirt between the pebble and his palm.

She raised herself off the ottoman a little. "What is that?"

"Lie down on the cot, and you'll find out."

"Tell me what you're gonna do first," she said and stayed put.

"Do you trust me?"

She answered silently and without hesitation. She lay down on the cot.

He scooped the Wolfsbane pebble into his other hand, and Jackie stared at him as he moved on top of her. His skin was tingling again, all over.

"What's it doing to do you?" she said. Her palms swept onto his oversensitive cheeks, and the sensation rippled through the rest of him. _Oh, man,_ did it feel good, but laughter didn't assault him this time. He kissed her, and the softness of her lips, the warmth of her whole being made him hard as hell. "Tell me now," she demanded after the kiss, "what's that stuff doing?"

"Words can't explain it." He touched the Wolfsbane to her neck, just behind her earlobe, and she gasped. Her escaping breath heated his blood, causing his whole body to throb with ache. He'd never felt as physically charged-up as this.

He dragged the pebble along her jawline, and she spoke against his lips. "Oh, my God. Steven... Oh, my God."

She'd gotten enough. They both had. He reached up and put the pebble on the bureau.

Her fingers dug into his curls. She gripped his hair tightly as their kisses grew deep and powerful. They were thrusting against each other fully clothed, and within minutes he lost control. He started to release into his boxers. Physical euphoria drowned his mind, but when he recovered, he felt empty. The tranquility that usually followed was missing.

Jackie shuddered beneath him. She was coming, too, and he stroked the side of her face until her body calmed down. It took some time before she spoke. "It wasn't enough." Her hand slid up his shoulder to his neck. "Baby, I need more."

Her touch energized him, and he grew hard again. _Very_ hard. "Holy—" He shot off the cot and backed up against the ottoman. Normally, he could reload within ten minutes or so, but not this fast. He sat down, yanked off his boots and jeans. She was watching him, and he said, "Don't look. Ain't gonna be pretty."

She draped an arm over her eyes.

He pushed his dirty boxers down to his knees, and his fresh erection sprang out. "Freakin' magic," he muttered. Then he took his boxers completely off, used the unsoiled outside of them to clean himself off. "Okay, Jackie."

She uncovered her eyes and sat up. Her face brightened upon seeing him. "Steven..." she pulled off her dress and unhooked her bra, "where is it? I wanna touch it again."

With some difficulty, he tore his gaze from her newly naked body. He'd left the Wolfsbane on the bureau. "Yeah, I'm gonna be the one handling it." He darted to the cot and grasped the pebble before Jackie could herself.

She plumped out her bottom lip in a pout while simultaneously yanking Hyde's shirt over his head. "I need you," she said.

His body was buzzing, almost vibrating from holding the pebble in his hand. He told Jackie to lie down again. She did, and he rolled the pebble between her breasts, around her nipples then over them. Her head pressed back into the pillows, and her mouth opened in silence. He'd gotten her to that place himself a few times, so aroused she couldn't utter a sound. But he didn't like that magic was doing the same thing to her.

He returned the Wolfsbane to the bureau and surrounded one of her nipples with his mouth. The texture of it felt incredible against his lips and tongue, but she clutched at his back and shouted, "No! No!"

He released her breast, panicked by her response. "What? What?"

"I'm coming again!" She slapped the cot with both hands.. Then she sat up and unstrapped her heeled shoes. Her panties were off in seconds, too. "Steven..." she waved her arms at him frantically, as if shaking water from them, "I feel so much. I need to feel it with _you."_

"Yeah, me, too," he said. His unsatisfying orgasm, Jackie's two, his over-sensitized body—they were all making him edgy. He pushed himself off the cot and snatched the dishrag from the floor. "No more of this," he said and covered the Wolfsbane pebble with the rag.

Jackie was on all fours when he returned to her, doggy-style position.

"You want a fuck?" he said, not hiding his surprise. It was something she rarely offered, something he rarely wanted. Today, though—after the fighting and hearing about Fez's crap—it was something he wouldn't mind doing.

"No..." she said and wiggled her butt at him. "You're everything to me, baby..." her soft but husky voice—combined with the wet, naked sight of her—glutted him with lust, "and I wanna _give_ you everything."

She crawled backward on the cot. His hands glided over her hips, and a sharp breath escaped both of them at the simple contact. That Wolfsbane was powerful shit, man. And now it was influencing her to offer _that,_ the one thing she swore she'd never do: a staple of porno, the Holy Grail of fucking.

Jackie's kinky side had never taken her this far. Sex in semi-public places, sure. But she was more playful than kinky—and very _present._ Fucking had a different definition for them than what he used to do with other girls. It wasn't mindless or heartless. But taking her back door wouldn't be about Jackie. Just the thrill.

Her small, round butt cheek pushed against his thigh. "Steven, _please._ "

"We're not doing _that,"_ he said. Then he grasped her hips and sunk himself into the only place of hers he ever had—or ever would—and she let out a quiet gasp.

His thrusts started slowly, and she made no sound. He deepened them, but still nothing. The way the Wolfsbane made his body feel—the way hers _had_ to be feeling with him inside her, she should have been moaning. Or calling out for him. But she was as silent as he was.

His hand wandered between her thighs and slipped into her moistness, hoping it would help. But she showed no reaction. No glances back at him. Didn't thrust her hips in time with his strokes.

Physical pleasure flooded through him as he pumped into her, but it meant nothing. Jackie wasn't with him, and _he missed her._

He bent over her bare back and lay his cheek on it. He hugged her to his chest, but it provoked no response. "Yeah, this isn't working for me, Jackie," he said. He straightened up and pulled out.

She still didn't respond, and his pulse tightened. The Wolfsbane—had it paralyzed her like Forman? He walked to the front of the cot and found her gaze fixed on her left hand, on her engagement ring. Tears had pooled in her eyes and fell silently onto the mattress.

"Jackie, what the hell?"

Finally, her voice broke free, and she began to cry. Loudly. Her sobs made the harshness of his tone echo in his mind. Her tears dug at his chest, creating trenches where shame flowed easily, and he went soft.

"Grasshopper," he said and rubbed her arm.

The contact must have reached her because she lowered herself to the mattress and lay on her stomach, still crying.

He sat on the cot, unsure if he should touch her again. "I'm sorry." She peeked up at him, and he risked caressing her wet cheek. "Never shoulda done any of that..."

He'd elicited more tears, but she didn't bury her face in the cot.

"Look," he said, "I'm just—I'm a little freaked about you, okay? We haven't set a wedding date, and that's gotta be freakin' _you_ out. But I'm not going anywhere." His throat closed up, but he shoved the words through. "You don't have to pull a 'love slave' act to keep me around. I meant what I said when I proposed: You've got me 'til I'm dead."

"Steven—" She pushed herself up and wiped her eyes. Then she eased her arms around his back.

The feel of her naked flesh re-excited his nerves, but he moved her onto his lap and held her. "I missed you," he said softly.

"I missed _you._ " She hugged him tighter. _"God,_ I missed you. I always feel like you're with me—even when you're not with me, y'know? But it just went _poof!_ like you weren't there... even though you were right there!"

"Right _in_ there," he said with a laugh.

"Exactly, baby. Exactly." She sniffled, and his neck grew damp from her tears. "Despite what we were doing, I couldn't feel you."

"I went pretty deep, Jackie."

She loosened her grip on him and tapped his chest. "No, _feel_ you, Steven. When you're inside me, I usually feel a lot more than just your— _you know."_

He bit down another laugh. "So you offer to let me be your back-door man, but you can't even say the word 'dick'?"

She grimaced. "Steven! This is serious."

"Then why'd you offer to do 'that'? A fuck isn't the best way to..." _love each other_ , he thought, but he'd never say it say out loud. The sentiment would add another weapon to her arsenal, something she'd use to manipulate him down the line.

"What do you feel when you're inside me?" she said, and he flinched as if she'd thrown a left hook. It wasn't something he knew how to answer, not fully anyway.

"No, no, no," he said. "You answer my question. Why did you offer to—"

"I just want you to be happy, Puddin'."

"Making yourself miserable's not gonna do that. Maybe back when I couldn't stand you..."

She took one of his hands from her back and pressed her cheek into his palm. "I'm gonna lose you." Her eyes squeezed shut, and more tears gleamed at the corners. "I don't know how, but I am—"

"No." His thumbs wiped her fresh tears away. "Jackie, I'm not gonna leave you... unless you want me to."

"You promise?" she said without opening her eyes.

"Yeah." He pressed his lips to her bare shoulder and kissed her. "I promise."


	5. A Meaningless Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 5  
A MEANINGLESS STORM

Kelso hauled Brooke's suitcase up the Formans' carpeted stairs, feeling happier than he had in a while. It was a relief Brooke and their kid could stay at the Formans. He could protect them better that way. At a hotel, security guards would confiscate his sword, and he needed it to be at his best. One never knew what angry Elf-husband or Troll would leap through the Traveling mirror, looking for revenge.

No, he needed to be on alert. Especially with Jackie around.

Yesterday had been quite the day, introducing his friends to the glories of Wolfsbane—and Jackie kicking both his shins because of it—then going to the tuxedo fitting. Fez had spared no expense for Eric's wedding, and the slick groomsmen tuxes made Kelso want to marry himself. Of course, then he'd have to cheat on himself with chicks, but he was damn hot in that suit. Even Brooke would have to see that

"Michael, are you sure you've got it?" she said. She was already at the top of the stairs with their three-year-old daughter in her arms. "That suitcase is packed for two."

"Yeah. I've carried heavier things than this, right Betsy?" He peered up the stairs. His kid looked so freakin' cute in her cupcake shirt and pigtails, and she'd gotten so big. Thanks to his duty as Captain of Fez's Guard, he couldn't visit her too often, about one weekend a month. Sometimes he spent a whole week, if he was lucky. But he wasn't usually lucky.

He lugged the suitcase over the last stair and reached the the second floor. "Laurie's room's in there," he said, pointing to a door down the hall.

Brooke put Betsy down and held her hand, and they walked together to Laurie's room. "It was really nice of the Formans to let us stay here," Brooke said at the door. "They have to be so busy with Donna and Eric's wedding."

"Yeah, well, Red was super-pissed when I asked him, but Mrs. Forman shut him right up with—" he screwed up his face and whispered, "old-people kissing."

Brooke and Betsy both laughed, and warmth spread into Kelso's chest. Man, Betsy's smile was just like her mom's, bright and adorable. His gaze sank toward the floor but landed on Brooke's open-toed shoes. Perfect peach toenails. And those legs—God, Brooke had some of the hottest legs he'd ever seen on a chick. Long and graceful and powerful. He knew they were powerful 'cause they'd supported her during their one and only time together, in the bathroom at the Molly Hatchet concert.

A gentle hand eased over his shoulder. "Are you okay?" Brooke said.

"You have beautiful eyes," he said and touched her cheek. "So brown and... nice." He sounded dazed, and his mind felt worse, like a bunch of butterflies were fluttering in his skull.

"Daddy's so silly!" Betsy said, giggling.

Brooke pulled his hand from her face. "Yes, he is." Her eyes, though, remained soft.

A grin surfaced on his lips. She was incredible. That long shiny hair of hers, and the way she spoke. He actually listened when she talked. It was a strange experience, but he liked it.

"Michael, did you hear me?" Brooke said from Laurie's room. She was already inside with Betsy.

"Huh?" He shook his head, trying to dislodge the butterflies from his skull. Damn. He hadn't been listening to her that time. "Sorry," he said and brought the suitcase inside the room.

A huge vase filled with red roses sat by the window. Smaller vases, also filled with roses, were on the wicker desk. Brooke took one of the small vases and placed the roses under Betsy's nose. Betsy, though, tried to touch the petals.

"Don't touch, honey," Brooke said. "Smell."

Betsy sniffed. "Smells pretty, Mama. Like the garden!"

"Yes, just like Nana's garden." Brooke returned the vase to the desk. "Michael, the flowers are beautiful, but you didn't have to—"

"Oh, I didn't." He put the suitcase beside the bed. "Mrs. Forman's on a plant-kick."

Brooke's expression fell, and it made him wish he had been the one responsible for the roses—but not so he could get into her pants. He knew that would never happen. The wish he'd made eight months ago guaranteed that. No American chick would ever want to do it with him again, but even without that horrible wish, Brooke just didn't feel that way about him. And he didn't really feel that way about her.

Okay, the last part was a lie. He wanted her like he wanted any hot girl, but he also wanted to make her laugh. To see her eyes brighten, and—

He slapped the back of his skull. "Stupid butterflies."

"Daddy..." Betsy was tugging on his pant leg, "did you get me a present?"

"Of course!" He lifted her into his arms and gave her a peck on the cheek. "It's in the basement. Let me get it."

He set her down again and ran for the door, but Brooke called after him, "It's not alive, is it?"

"No," he said. "And it has nothing to do with fire."

* * *

Down in the basement, Kelso pulled a teddy bear from his leather knapsack. He dashed for the stairs, but Hyde's door burst open before he made it.

"Would you calm the fuck down?" Hyde said. His back was in the doorway, and his hand clutched the doorknob with white knuckles.

"I am not going to the rehearsal dinner as an orange-haired 'tardo!" Jackie's voice. A bottle of shampoo flew past Hyde's head and landed hard on the basement floor. "And I'm not going outside like this!"

"I'll get you a damn hat, okay? Just give me a freakin' second." Hyde backed out of the room and slammed the door closed. "Fuck..."

"Hyde?" Kelso said, returning to the couch. He put down the teddy bear and picked up the bottle of shampoo. "What's going on?"

Hyde answered with a scowl. "I'll tell you what's going on, man. Jackie's nuts. This stupid wedding's driving her crazy, and she's driving me..." He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why couldn't Forman do the right thing and elope, huh? We got four damn days of this wedding to deal with. Today's only Friday, and tomorrow—what's she gonna be like when they actually do get married? The cake knife'll probably be stuck in my back"

"Wow..." Kelso smiled cautiously, "you're really freaking out."

"No, I'm just pissed." Hyde snatched the shampoo from Kelso's hand. "Earth Born," he read off the label. "'Natural pH balance,' my ass. This shit turned Jackie's hair bright orange."

Kelso gasped and charged toward Hyde's old room, but Hyde got in front of him. "Oh, come on!" Kelso said. "You gotta let me see her!"

"I do that, and you're dead..." Hyde pushed him back to the couch. "Wouldn't care, but I'd be next." He dropped the shampoo and picked up the teddy bear. "This for Betsy?"

"Uh-huh. It's magic."

"Crap." Hyde shoved the bear at Kelso's chest. He also grasped Kelso's wrist and dragged him to the wooden staircase. "Let's go."

"Damn, Hyde! You don't have to push. I'm goin'." Kelso climbed the stairs but looked over his shoulder. "Just let me catch a glimpse of Jackie's hair—" Hyde frogged him on the butt cheek. "Ow!"

"Jackie's getting her hair dyed today before the dinner," Hyde said. "Then at least one part of her'll be back to normal."

"There's still time to get out, you know. You haven't said, 'I do,' yet—"

Hyde slammed his fist into Kelso's butt cheek again. "Shut up and keep moving, or I will let you see Jackie."

Kelso shuddered. Maybe Hyde was right. Maybe Kelso was better off leaving Jackie's hair to his imagination. She became violent when she was upset, and he liked his beanbags the way they were—not throbbing in pain.

* * *

"Daddy, Daddy!" Betsy was sitting on Laurie's bed and hugging the teddy bear to her. She gave the bear a squeeze, and sparkling hearts floated into the air.. They popped like bubbles, causing her to giggle.

"That's right, munchkin," Kelso said. "Part of me's in there." Brooke cleared her throat, and he added, "Because I, um... bought it for you out of love."

Betsy walked the bear on her leg and hummed to herself, but Brooke pulled Kelso aside. "She really misses you," she said. Her fingers grazed his short sleeve and glided down his arm, skimming over his Troll scar. "Are you sure you can't stay with us in Chicago a little while after the wedding?"

His skin prickled where she touched him. More butterfly wings flapped against his brain, but he mentally squashed them. "Yeah, I got this big modeling contract out in Spain. Muy buen dinero."He rocked a little on his heels. "I can't pass it up."

"Well, that's really great you're getting so much work." Brooke was smiling, but she didn't sound happy. "And it's wonderful Betsy's college tuition is taken care of. And the account you set up for us is really generous, but..."

A tight, sick feeling settled into Kelso's stomach What had Donna called it? Oh, right. Guilt. He'd been lying to Brooke for eight months, told her the Point Place P.D. had fired him, that he'd gotten back into modeling—but only Europe seemed to "get his look". The money he'd given her and Betsy came from Fez. Kelso wanted to tell her the truth so badly, but she'd never understand.

"I miss seeing you with her." Brooke nodded at Betsy, who was busy introducing the bear to her baby doll. "You're so sweet together."

Kelso watched silently as Betsy squeezed the bear. More twinkling hearts drifted above her, and she laughed in delight. The sound swept into his ears and straight to his heart. Never in his life had he felt such joy simply by being around another person. But his daughter... man,every time he came back to see her, he almost didn't leave.

Betsy hopped off the bed and ran to him. She must have caught him looking at her. "Pick me up," she said, stretching her arms toward him. He scooped her up, and she flung her arms around his neck, kissed him wetly on the cheek. "You're the best daddy in the world!"

He kissed her back. "You're the best daughter in the world."

"And the Ten Kingdoms?" she said.

"Of course!" He poked her button nose. "Elves and Fairies have nothing on you."

"She loves those stories you tell her," Brooke said." I still don't know how you come up with them."

"I've always had a good imagination," he said, and a light knock on the door ended the conversation.

Mrs. Forman entered a moment later. "Hello!" she said cheerfully. "Lunch is about ready, and..." She placed her hands over her heart. "Oh, isn't that precious! Michael, you look so cute holding your daughter."

"Yeah, I know." He winked at Brooke and whispered, "Mrs. Forman's always had a thing for me. Ever since I pinched her butt."

Betsy pushed at Kelso's chest, her way of letting him know she wanted to be put down. He did, and she raced to the bed. "Look at what Daddy got me, Kitty!" She grabbed the teddy bear and hugged it in front of Mrs. Forman.

Sparkling pink and red hearts floated into Mrs. Forman's face, and she laughed. "My, that's some toy! Is it European?"

"Yup," he said.

Afterward, they all walked into the hallway, and Brooke said, "Mrs. Forman, thank you so much for letting us stay here. The roses are beautiful. Where did you buy them?"

"Oh, I didn't buy them." Mrs. Forman started down the carpeted stairs. "Laurie visited a few months ago and brought me some seeds."

A chill shot through Kelso's bones. "L—Laurie visited you?"

"Yes, from Canada. I'm so proud of her. She's changed so much, gotten into Philanthropy..." Another laugh escaped her. "Who ever thought that would happen? But the Canadian air must have affected her. I'm just sad her work with the less fortunate will keep her from coming to the wedding."

"Laurie visited you?" Kelso said again, and Brooke flashed him her shut-up look. She didn't know anything about Eric's sister, what had really happened to her.

"I didn't see any rose bushes in your yard," Brooke said, bouncing Betsy in her arms. "Did you plant them in a communal garden, or...?"

Mrs. Forman waved her hand, as if the question were silly. "No. Just planted the seeds in the pot, and the roses sprang right up! I couldn't believe it, but scientists are always inventing new things. They're thornless roses, too, so they'll be safe for little Betsy to be around."

At the bottom of the stairs, Kelso hung back while Mrs. Forman, Brooke, and Betsy went into the kitchen. Laurie had visited her parents... but Laurie was dead. Had she turned into a Fairy Godmother like Snow White? If so, was she still do-able? Or would his body fall right through her?

"Michael, honey, your lunch is getting cold," Mrs. Forman shouted from the kitchen.

"Be there in a sec!" He headed for the kitchen with questions clouding his thoughts, but the sight of his daughter in a high chair, making goofy faces at him, swept the clouds away.

* * *

Eric had spent a good portion of the afternoon in his room, re-writing his wedding vows to Donna. In his original version, he compared their love to The Force and wrote how they were as meant to be as Luke and Leia. But having seen The Empire Strikes Back a few days ago, none of that seemed appropriate anymore.

It was past four o'clock now, and he rummaged through his closet. Most of his old shirts still fit. They'd been too big for him in the first place, but his suits were all too small. His biceps weren't huge, and his chest would never be as broad as Hyde's, but they were twice the size they'd been eight months ago. The suit jacket he'd worn for his first date with Donna fit tightly around his shoulders. He could barely move his arms, and buttoning it around his torso took some effort. It was like wearing a jacket for a child.

Fortunately, he'd bought a new suit for the wedding rehearsal, charcoal gray. He lay it on the bed and checked the shelves above his pillows. Was everything there? All his G.I. Joes were accounted for and his Star Wars action figures, but his Milwaukee Brewer's cap was missing. Maybe his mom had moved it when she last cleaned his room.

"Honey?" Kitty entered without knocking, as if she'd been reading his thoughts. Her voice was a whisper. "Betsy's taking her nap so she won't be cranky during the rehearsal." She closed the door and spotted his new suit. "Oh, is that what you're wearing?"

"Yeah. Donna likes me in gray."

Kitty clapped like an excited schoolgirl. "You're going to be so handsome in it! Yay!" Then her cheerfulness faltered, and she sat on the edge of his bed. "Eric, with the wedding tomorrow, is there—is there anything you're afraid of? Your father and I are always available to talk." Her fingers laced over her skirt-covered knee, but she kept her gaze on him. "Because maybe if you'd spoken to us the first time around, we could have helped you."

Heat spread from Eric's cheeks to the rest of his face. "Dad? Dad's 'always available' for me?"

"Well, maybe not. But I am."

"I'm showing up for the wedding—and the rehearsal," Eric said. He grabbed the suit from the bed and returned it to the closet. "I've gotten my third chance with Donna, and I was lucky to get it. I won't screw up this time. I can't."

Kitty shook her head. "It's not just about the wedding, sweetie. It's about you."

"Okay, I am conflicted about something," he said and sat down next to her. "I'm not sure Pastor Dan should be the one officiating the wedding. He bears a striking resemblance to this character in The Empire Strikes Back, Lando Calrissian. And now that Leia's all 'Han, I love you. Shove your tongue down my throat,'" he winced, "I'm not sure I want to be reminded of that while I'm at the altar with Donna."

"No, Eric. I don't mean that." Kitty rubbed his arm tenderly, but the warmth didn't sink in. "Ever since you saved Laurie's life up in Canada from that crazy obsessed woman—"

He shot off the bed. "I didn't save her life." His throat grew tight, and he shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. Didn't want his mom to see his clenched fists.

"You did. Laurie said so, and you know your sister. She would never admit to that if it weren't true. She's really changed."

"How do you know?"

"During her last visit," Kitty said, "we talked and talked."

The tightness in Eric's throat became a hard lump. "Wait—wait, she visited you again?"

"Of course. Where do you think I got the idea to raise plants from?"

"What?" His hands flew from his pocket, and he grasped his mother's shoulders. "You have to tell me everything she said."

Her eyes widened in surprise, but they quickly relaxed. She cupped his forehead, as if to feel his temperature. "Honey, are you okay? You can tell me if something's wrong."

He let her go and backed off. "Did she say anything about me?"

"Only that she's sorry she won't be there for the wedding, but she'll be there in spirit."

A feeling of cold burst in Eric's skull and thrummed down his spine, making him shiver. She'll be there in spirit... What the hell did that mean?

"She also said she's proud of you," Kitty said.

"She said that?"

"In her own way."

The cold faded. Even so, Eric found himself staring at his shoes. He wanted to tell his mom everything, about the Traveling mirror, the Nine Kingdoms, what had really happened to Laurie. It all rose in his chest like a helium-filled confession. But when he looked up at her again, the love she had in her eyes—for him—was as sharp as a pin. It popped his confession-balloon, deprived his words of their lift, and they sank back down.

If Laurie was showing up to his parents as some kind of Fairy Goddaughter, and she didn't tell them about her true state of being, then how was it his place to? It would break their parents' hearts—if they believed him—which they probably wouldn't. But if Laurie was visiting them, why hadn't she visited him?

"Mom, there is something bothering me. I..." he swallowed, "I miss Laurie... and the fact that I miss her isn't bothering me. I actually miss her."

Kitty nodded. "Your schedules just haven't matched-up, with you going to college and all the Philanthropic work she does now. But I'm sure you'll manage to see each other this summer."

"Yeah... wait. 'Philanthropic work'?"

"Uh-huh. She works with people whose lives are less than what they could be, like shut-ins and—"

He started to laugh. A thousand sister-burns flared up in his head. If only his sister were there to hear them.

Kitty pointed a stern finger at him. "Don't you laugh, Eric Albert Forman. She's worked hard to get where she is. She—she went back to school on scholarship—and on an accelerated program, too. She earned a degree in humanitarianism. I didn't know there was a college program in that subject..." she blinked, as if some part of her knew the story didn't quite make sense, "but she's really turned her life around."

"Yeah." His laughter was long-gone, replaced by a quiet thoughtfulness. "Yeah, sounds like she has."

* * *

Hyde had showered and returned to his room after a few games of basketball with Kelso. It was almost 4:30 P.M., and Jackie should have been back by now, but she wasn't. Whatever that shampoo had done to her hair, an army of colorists must've been needed to fix it.

In any case, he had to get ready for Forman and Donna's wedding rehearsal. He heaved his duffel bag onto the Formans' dusty armchair and opened it. His black suit was crammed inside. He pulled it out and held it up. The pants and jacket were both wrinkled, and normally, he wouldn't have given a crap. But with Jackie's current screwed-up mood, he was a dead man unless he got the suit to an iron.

He draped the suit over the back of the chair. Then he spotted Jackie's pink suitcase. Something was sticking out from it, but invading her privacy wasn't his deal. If he wanted to know something, he'd ask. Yet his hand seemed to act on its own. His fingers unzipped the suitcase's front pocket, grasped the corner of whatever was inside, and yanked it out.

A picture of the Eiffel Tower stared at him from a brochure with the words "Study Abroad" blazoned across it. He opened the brochure, skimmed the text about "great opportunities" and a "year in Paris" and "Blah, blah, freakin'-blah."

"So that's it, huh?" he said to no one. "You finally got me, and you don't fuckin' want me anymore? Only liked chasing me around to see if I'd come runnin' back to you." He shut his eyes, and azure ice flashed behind them. "That's what all your shit's been about, trying to get rid of me."

The door creaked behind him, and his eyes opened. Each of his hands now clutched a piece of the brochure. He must have ripped it apart, and he stuffed the pieces under his cot pillow.

"What are you doing?" Jackie said at the door.

"Fluffing the pillow," he said and plunked down on the cot.

"Sure, you were..." She stepped inside the room. Her hair was back to its shiny brown color and feathered to frame her face. She'd gotten it cut, too. "Took forever to get that horrible orange out." She tossed Forman's Milwaukee Brewers cap onto the bureau, and it landed beside the dishrag—with the Wolfsbane pebble still wrapped inside. He'd forgotten to give that piece of crap back to Kelso. "Steven," she said and sat down on his lap, "are you okay, baby?"

He tried to form a coherent answer, but she vanished. Hell, his whole room had disappeared, replaced by a jagged cliff in the dark. He was naked and shivering, fully exposed—alone, but predators were everywhere, man. They crept up to him on the rock, slithered over the cracked earth, and clawed at his ankles. They burrowed into his veins and fed on his heart. That was what they wanted, man, the energy that made him live—that made him be. It wasn't his blood they were after. They wanted his...

"Love," Hyde said into the dark, and he was back in his room. Jackie's arms had slipped around his shoulders. She smelled like chemicals and floral shampoo, and her fingers were brushing through his curls.

"Steven?"

He enclosed her snugly in an embrace. "Fuck, I'm too damn in love with you," he whispered, but her warmth dispelled the biting chills from his body.

"I know," she said.

"You know?" He drew away and arched an eyebrow. "Turning into Han Solo?"

"I didn't mean it that way. I just mean..." She cupped the sides of his face, and her thumbs traced along his jaw. "I'm sorry for being so bitchy this morning. It's just that in the shower, I saw that I've gained some..." She couldn't seem to make herself say it, that she'd gotten heavier. "And when I stepped out of the shower and saw my hair, it was just too much."

"I get it."

She released a heavy breath. "You've been so good to me lately. Patient."

"Not like you weren't patient with me." He slipped his hand beneath the pillow and pulled out the ripped brochure. She gasped at the sight of it. "Before, if I found something like this, I woulda jumped to a bunch of fucked-up conclusions. Probably run off and done something stupid—"

"Steven, that's not what you think—"

"I wanted to," he said, "wanted to be an asshole and hurt you before you could do it to me. But the first two times I did that, I was freakin' wrong, okay? And you got over it. You..." He fidgeted with the ripped brochure as heat spread from his neck into his cheeks. He sucked at communicating these things. He knew what he wanted to say, but his words could be used as poison against him, to manipulate and control. "Jackie, you've dealt with a bunch of my crap, and you're still here. You still..." The words dissolved into nothing, and he shook his head. No way he was gonna be able to say it.

"Love you?" she said for him. He nodded, and she pecked him on the lips. "I'm always gonna love you, Puddin'." She kissed him again, slower this time and deep. "I can't stop."

He smiled into her third kiss. It was tender and soft, and so full of her that it soothed his anxiety about the brochure.

"Me, either, Grasshopper" he said and swept her hair from her shoulder. He began to lay thick kisses on her neck. "If you wanna take a year in Paris..." his lips traveled behind her earlobe, "I won't like it..." and she sounded pleased as his kisses grew more insistent, "but I'll be cool with it."

They lay beside each other on the cot afterward, with him leaning on his side. His left hand slipped beneath her shirt, glided over her stomach, and settled there. Her belly was churning, as if she hadn't eaten anything in a while, and it was rounder than it used to be.

"No," she said. "I don't want to go to Europe. I mean, I do. Someday, but not without you. I just... I..." She laughed sadly. "My mind's been conjuring some weird things lately, y'know?"

"Don't have to tell me." His own mind had concocted a nutty number only a few minutes ago. "So..." he removed his hand from her grumbling stomach, "how many people did ya have working on your hair?"

"Oh, practically the whole salon!" Her expression brightened, and her mood seemed to do the same. "I was like a princess with all of them paying so much attention to me. The first dye-job didn't take. And the second made my hair auburn, which didn't look terrible—but my natural hair color suits me best. It lets my full beauty shine. So I demanded they dye me a third time, and they did, and it worked!

"They gave me a special kind of shampoo, too," she continued. "It's supposedly really pH-balanced, and it was expensive, so it's gotta be true, right?"

"Right..." Hyde was grinning. Her exuberance, even at its most superficial, lit him up and made the dark, creeping things inside his brain scatter to more remote parts of himself.

"Do you like it?" She grasped his wrist and brought his fingers to her hair. It was silky against his skin, and he nodded. "I feel kind of bad for Donna, though. All eyes are gonna be on me tonight." She gestured, as if shoving the thought away. "But it's always like that when we're in the same room together, so she should be... be used... " Her eyelids drifted closed. His thumb was caressing the ridge of her ear, and a peaceful sigh lifted from her. "Mmm... Steven, I love it when you do that."

Years ago, a moment like this would have sickened him, but now—simply lying on his cot with her, talking about shit that didn't really matter—he couldn't get enough of it. She inched closer to him and draped her arm over his waist, and they lay like that, serene and silent, until her stomach growled against him.

"It's 'Rock n' Roll' chocolate milk-time," he said and sat up. Instead of refusing, she sat up with him. "Mrs. Forman's got a stash of the good stuff in the back of the fridge."

"Oh!" She hugged his arm to her chest. "Will you put whipped cream on it?"

"Hell, yeah. Wouldn't be rock n' roll without it."

Rock n' Roll chocolate milk was his secret weapon. Whenever Jackie got sick or felt insecure about her weight, he made her his special, extra-chocolatey concoction. She was helpless against it, and he was damn glad he'd figured that one out. No matter how stubborn she could be, one glass of his chocolate milk always got her eating again.

"Let's go," he said, and they got off the cot together. Before they left the room, though, she kissed him by his ear—her way of saying, "Thank you."

* * *

"I'm not running away this time, you guys! You can let me go!"

Eric was in the driveway, being dragged toward the Vista Cruiser by Hyde and Kelso. They each held onto one of his arms while Red scowled by the 'Cruiser's passenger-side. "Dig your heels into the pavement!" Red ordered. "Don't let him wriggle free. He's not a wrestler, damn it! He's Eric."

"Yeah, he's Eric," Kelso said, "but he's gotten way stronger. Like he's been eating spinach or something."

Eric smirked. His new strength seemed to bewilder Red, and it was nice to see the old man confused. It was also nice to see his parents and friends all dressed up for the wedding rehearsal. Red was in his gray suit. Kitty had on her scarlet dress, and she snapped Polaroid after Polaroid as Hyde and Kelso shoved Eric to the 'Cruiser's passenger-side door.

"Miss Kitty," Fez said, "get one of me giving Eric rabbit ears." He darted behind Eric, and Eric felt Fez's hand behind his head.

"Sabu, quit fooling around and help those two dumbasses push that dumbass into the car!" Red shouted.

Kitty hit Red's chest. "Don't yell at him, Red. Fez looks so—so kingly in that suit. Look at those gold epaulets on his shoulders—"

"He looks like a goddamn bellhop."

Eric suppressed a chuckle as Fez pushed at his back. Even with Fez's added muscle, Eric put up a good fight. Before, Hyde would've been enough to get him into the car, but now? Eric was like Luke using the Force.

The sky, though, was thick with dark clouds and rumbling thunder. Donna couldn't have been happy about that. She was already on her way to Mt. Hump, being driven by her dad, and that thought made Eric finally give up the game—and give into his friends' efforts.

"Come on, Popeye." Hyde tightened his grip on Eric's arm and shoved him to the 'Cruiser. Kitty scooted in next to him.

"See ya up the mountain," Kelso said and waved at them through the windshield. "I'm driving Brooke and Betsy in Brooke's car."

"Can I drive?" Fez said. "It's been so long since I have driven."

"Sorry, buddy," Kelso clapped his shoulder, "my kid's gonna be in that car."

"Ai, you are right." Fez lowered his head as he and Kelso left the driveway. "I miss my horses."

Hyde and Jackie were seated in the Vista Cruiser now, and Red started her up. He pulled out of the driveway, muttering something about "Moron-nonsense," but his voice was drowned out by an ear-cleaving clap of thunder. Raindrops began to fall, splashing on the 'Cruiser's windows, and Eric swallowed. Not a promising start to his wedding rehearsal, not at all. But it was just weather, right? Point Place wasn't a magic village, and his life wasn't a fairy tale. The rain was just a meaningless storm.


	6. Tapping a Vein

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 6  
 **TAPPING A VEIN**  


The wedding rehearsal went off without a hitch, except for the rain pouring down. Everyone held umbrellas, and Jackie kept relatively dry, unlike the daffodils and peonies lining the wedding aisle. The ground beneath her high-heeled feet was covered in soft grass, and cream-blossomed dogwood trees enclosed the wedding area. Mount Hump really was a beautiful place—when it wasn't shrouded by a gray, thundering sky.

The rehearsal concluded with a flash of lightning. The wedding coordinator, a plump but pretty woman, ushered Eric and Donna back up the aisle. "And then everyone follows you to our reception area, which you'll find by traveling the stone pathway _,_ " she said quickly. "But now everyone should follow you back to the parking lot. We'll see you at least an hour before your ten o'clock ceremony tomorrow, 'kay?"

"Um... yeah," Eric said, gesturing at the rain. "Is the weather supposed to be like this tomorrow?"

"Forecast calls for blue skies." The wedding coordinator shifted her wide, purple umbrella from her left hand to her right. "Buck-up, Mr. Forman. All the bad things that can happen are _supposed_ to happen during the rehearsal. This storm is a good sign."

"Oh..." Eric visibly tightened his grip on Donna's hand. "Good."

They headed for an exit through the wall of dogwood trees. Mr. and Mrs. Forman trailed close behind with Bob and Midge, but Jackie's concentration was elsewhere. The _pat-pat-pat_ of raindrops absorbed her attention. The cold wind bit into her skin, making her shiver, and the smell of wet earth brought her back to a different storm in a real forest—the Thousand-Mile Forest.

Her hair had been cursed along with Donna's then, their locks growing over thirty-feet long. They were tangled together, and running through a stormy forest had been nearly impossible. Branches and bushes snared their hair, slowed them to a crawl, and an insane Huntsman captured them. He brought them to his magical oak tree filled with knives and animal traps. But the worst part of it, even when the Huntsman pressed his crossbow to Jackie's heart, was believing Steven didn't love her.

"Hey." Steven's voice shook her free of the memory. His suit jacket was cloaking her shoulders, an umbrella sheltered both of them, and he squeezed her hand. "You wanna get outta here," he said, "or stay for the light-and-water show?"

The rain was pouring in sheets now, drenching Mt. Hump's Wedding Garden, and the sky growled and clapped with thunder. She caught a glimpse of Michael and Fez's backs as they disappeared through the dogwood trees.

"I wanna get out of here," she said. Her cheeks were wet, but that had to be from the rain.

They said nothing more and walked up the aisle together. At the wall of trees, Steven grasped a low-lying branch. He snapped off a twig covered in cream-colored blossoms. Then he placed it in her hair above her ear. The twig was wet from rain, but she didn't care. The gesture was romantic and sweet, and it comforted her.

* * *

Jackie pushed a candied walnut around with her fork. The mixed greens salad on her plate looked appetizing and it was expensive—which made it even more appetizing—but she was too upset to eat. When she sat down, the bodice of her dress had tightened around her stomach. Her small belly jutted out visibly, and she'd hidden it beneath the table cloth.

Steven was staring at her, though, so she stuffed an endive into her mouth. How had her body gained that extra weight? She hadn't been eating like a fat girl. In fact, she'd been eating very little to fit into her bridesmaid dress. Not that it had done her any good. Instead of eating the Vineyard's pricey meal, swallowing her pride was on the menu tonight. She'd just have to ask Mrs. Forman to let out the hem of the bridesmaid dress.

"I know it's a little early for a toast, seeing as we're only on appetizers," Mr. Pinciotti said and raised his flute of champagne, "but to my little girl, Donna, for being so darned beautiful. And to Eric for showing up this time—'cause now I don't have to kill him... and I can enjoy this terrific food in peace."

Everyone lifted their champagne flutes and said, "To Donna and Eric!"

"Now?" Michael whispered to Fez. They were sitting next to each other, with Fez beside Jackie. Michael's suit jacket was draped on the back of his chair, and Michael's free hand fumbled inside one of the pockets.

"No, too early," Fez whispered back. "Do you want to get us kicked out before we've eaten the main course?"

"But we have the perfect opportunity here."

"Yes," Fez bit into a piece of his lobster ravioli, "but I love the Vineyard, and I desire to eat more of its food. Your king has spoken."

Michael's hand returned to his silverware, "Fine," and he downed half his champagne flute.

The Vineyard was one of Jackie's favorite restaurants, from its Post-Impressionist paintings to her memory of dining-and-dashing. She'd actually looked forward to this dinner, especially the prospect of eating in the private party room. It was so upper class, but now all she wanted was for the night to be over.

"Jackie," Steven's fork hovered in front of her mouth, "try some of this." A piece of Parma prosciutto was on offer.

"No, thanks," she said.

He ate the prosciutto himself then scooped a fig onto his fork. He presented it to her. "This is gonna taste better than those sprouts you keep poking at."

"Why are you always doing that?" Her own fork slipped from her fingers. "Pushing food at people? You did it to me at the Baa-Bar. You did it to Eric during Fez's corona—" She stopped herself. Across from them, Midge seemed focused on their conversation, although she could've just been staring blankly. One never knew with her.

"Yeah, starving's a load of fun," Steven dropped the fig onto Jackie's plate. "I went without food too many damn times. You don't have to."

"Just for now, baby." His confession had evaporated her annoyance, and she stroked his cheek. Caring about him was automatic, especially when he shared something so intimate. "I wanna be as pretty for Donna's wedding as I can, and that's not going to happen if I stuff my face tonight."

"You're nuts," he said, but before she returned to her plate, his hand landed on her knee. He pushed the material of her dress up her thigh, and his fingers edged wickedly toward the hem of her panties. "And," he whispered by her ear, "you're really fuckin' hot."

Her face flushed at his words, and his touch sent intense chills into her stomach. "You still think I'm hot?"

"Burnin' me up, doll." His lips swept over her mouth as if he'd been starved of her kiss. His hand moved at the same time, maneuvering between her legs and cupping the soft center. Only her panties served as a barrier, and she fought not press herself against him...

And then he withdrew.

"What the hell can I do to get you to eat?" he said.

The warmth of him tingled between her thighs and shone brightly inside her chest. His blue eyes were unshaded, and the concern in them rekindled her appetite. She turned to her plate—where her plate _used_ to be. Everyone's dishware was gone.

"Wait until the next course," she said, offering one of her best smiles.

He returned it with a smirk. "If you shove your food around your plate again, I'm gonna stick some of it in my mouth and kiss you until you're eating, got it?"

She giggled. "That's not a threat, Steven. It actually sounds like fun."

The wait between courses, however, was not fun. It seemed interminable—and was somewhat blinding. Mrs. Forman had pulled out her Polaroid camera and took picture after picture. _Flash!_ A picture of Brooke entertaining Betsy with a coloring book. _Flash!_ One of Fez making a toast to Eric and Donna. _Flash!_ Michael getting up to go to the bathroom.

"Kitty, you're gonna run out of film," Mr. Forman said.

Mrs. Forman gestured dismissively. "Oh, no. I've brought plenty." Then, as if to prove her point, she switched film cartridges. "I want to remember every bit of these moments, Red, and our future grandchildren will get to share them, too." She straightened a few of the developing Polaroids on a small serving table.

"Let me help you out, Kitty," Mr. Pinciotti said. He picked up two of the pictures and waved them in the air.

"Yeah, that doesn't actually help them develop any faster," Steven said. Brooke had given him some purple construction paper, and he was folding it into—well, into _something._ Jackie had no idea what he was doing, actually.

A few minutes later, he was finished. It was a purple swan. "Hey, Betts." He tugged on a paper fold to make the wings flap.

"Betsy, look," Brooke said, pointing at the swan.

Betsy reached for it across the table. "Ducky!"

"No, that's a swan," Brooke corrected, sweet and nurturing—just the way a mother should speak. "See its long neck?" .

"Here." Steven passed the swan into Betsy's grasping fingers. Then he took a sheet of red paper and began folding something new. Jackie watched in fascination as the square became a crown in his deft hands. Once he was done, he placed it atop her head.

"I didn't know you could do origami," she said.

His thumb flicked the corner of a blue paper sheet. "Thank my uncle Chet, who gave me books on Japan when I was a kid."

"Wait," she counted the syllables of his words, "was that a haiku?"

"Very good, small grasshopper."

She watched as he made something else, but her brain felt doused by ice water. He'd given her another glimpse into what made him _him._ The haiku, the Zen, and now the origami—it all connected back up to his uncle, the only family member he spoke of outside of W.B. and Angie. Jackie wanted to know more about Chet... and about Steven himself.

His secrets seemed protected by an unscalable mountain. If only she could tap them like a vein of gold inside a mine. Yes, mines had their hazards, like poisonous gas and the threat of collapse, all of which could kill a person. And she knew how cruel Steven could be, how the brutalities he'd suffered could surface. But she was willing to risk it, to face the danger if it meant freeing more of him.

"Ah, here we are," Mr. Pinciotti said, patting his generous stomach. The waiters finally brought the second course. Steven tossed the butterfly he'd made onto the floor, and Mrs. Forman put her camera away. The herb-roasted Cornish game hen Jackie had ordered smelled savory and delectable, and her stomach rumbled in agreement. But she waited politely until everyone was served before digging in.

Steven gave her knee a squeeze as she swallowed her first bite. The encouragement was endearing but unnecessary. She pointed at his own dish, filet mignon. "Don't be a hypocrite," she said. "Eat."

He cut into his steak.

* * *

Donna and Eric had both ordered the rack of lamb. She was enjoying it, but not as much as Eric seemed to be. He'd originally ordered his dish rare—"Just let it look at the oven then bring it to me," he'd said—but she and Mrs. Forman and even the waiter vetoed that decision. So he ordered it medium-rare with a glum sigh.

But he'd gotten over it. He was almost finished with his portion, had even eaten the fatty bits. His appetite had grown stronger and _stranger_ since he began weight training and running. She wasn't complaining, though. His new-found enthusiasm extended beyond food, and she blushed just thinking about it. His passion and skill in the bedroom had grown, too.

"You gonna eat that?" he said. His fork was angled at one of her lamb chops.

She chuckled. "Go ahead."

"Thank you, m'lady." He stabbed the chop with his fork and brought it to his plate.

She cut into a roasted potato, and her mother patted her arm. "Oh, Donna," Midge said, "have you and Eric decided on your honeymoon yet?"

Eric answered before Donna had a chance. "We've settled on a romantic cross-country road trip."

Midge frowned. "So you're not going to that castle?"

"Donna!" He put down his fork, which meant he was seriously ticked off. "You _told_ her about that?"

Donna spoke through a fake smile. "Yeah. Just the basics. Didn't go into detail."

"It sounded so wonderful," Midge said, "like a fairy tale."

"Exactly why Forman doesn't wanna go," Hyde said from across the table.

Donna chewed slowly on a bite of potato. Fez had passed on an invitation to her and Eric from Cinderella herself, to stay at the aptly named "Honeymoon Tower" in her castle. Eric's initial reaction was an explicit _no._ But Donna's curiosity was piqued, along with something deeper.

"It won't be like last time," she'd argued in their Madison apartment.

"I'm not going back there," he said.

"We won't be trapped. The mirror is in Fez's castle, protected by Kelso's guard."

"Donna—"

"Come on, Eric." She'd grabbed onto his hips and pulled herself flush against him, trying to coax a better reaction. "Don't you wonder what the other Kingdoms are like? We only saw three of them."

"And almost got killed a thousand times!" he said. "Why the hell would you want to risk that again?"

Her hands eased up his back. "You can't live your life locked away. Without risk, you get nothing."

"There's a difference between taking a risk and risking death." He disengaged from her and leaned against their armchair. "A risk is me asking you to try that thing with your mouth. Or attempting to run a sub-eight-minute mile during a race. If there's a house on fire, I'm not gonna sprint inside and say, 'Whee! _Now_ I'm living it up,baby!'"

"That's not what I mean." Donna raked her fingers through her hair and scratched at her scalp. She hadn't expected to get through to him, but she'd hoped. "Yeah, something could happen. Maybe a pissed-off Troll tries to make shoes out of us, but you could just as easily get run over by crossing the street." She moved closer to him again so their faces were only inches apart. "Eric, if you don't stop being afraid of what _could_ happen, you'll live, but you won't be _alive."_

His eyes closed. She thought he was going to shut her out, but he said, "You sound like her," he said.

"Who?"

"Snow White."

Donna reached out and grasped his hand. His encounter with Snow White—when they were in the Dwarves' kingdom—had left a lasting mark on him, for the better.

He opened his eyes. "I'll think about it, okay?"

"That's all I ask." But his thoughts hadn't led him to different conclusions, and she'd agreed to drive cross-country with him instead. It would be an adventure, he said, and he was was right. But it wouldn't be the start of the marriage she wanted with him—because she didn't have _all_ of him. He'd left a good portion of himself on the other side of the Traveling mirror. And she needed him to reclaim it.

"It's getting cold, Donna," Eric said. He was eying the last chop on her plate like a starved lion.

"Just order some more food," she said and sliced into her lamb.

"No. I'll wait for dessert."

A few moments later, Midge nudged Donna's elbow and gestured to Jackie. Jackie was staring at her engagement ring, not an uncommon sight these days. Donna shrugged and kept eating.

"Jackie," Midge said, "is that ring the reason you chose Steven?"

"What?" Jackie lifted her gaze.

"Well, you've been with all your male friends—except for Eric," Midge tilted her head toward him, "unless she _has_ been with you?"

Donna, Eric, and Jackie all screwed up their faces. Oh, how Donna wished she hadn't gossiped with her mother. It was one night, and Donna had been drunk.

_"Eww,_ " Jackie said. "I have _not_ been with Eric. Or Fez. I only kissed him—once."

"And a glorious kiss it was," Fez said.

Midge broke into a grin, and Donna sunk into her seat. She knew what was coming, something inappropriate and embarrassing.

"Ooh," Midge said, "who's the best kisser?"

Hyde, Kelso, and Fez all spoke up: "I am."

Jackie wadded up her cloth napkin, and Hyde turned to her. "Man, you did kiss all of us, huh?"

"No, not all," Kelso said. "Jackie, maybe you _should_ kiss Eric, just to complete the set."

"No!" Eric and Jackie both shouted, and Eric chucked a potato across the table. It beaned Kelso in the forehead.

"Thanks for that image," Eric said. "Now I have to shave off a piece of my brain."

"Oh, shut up!" Jackie hurled a crouton at him. "No way your twitchy Luke Skywalker lips would touch my perfect Princess Leia mouth."

"Yeah, that's all Han's," Hyde said, "and by Han, I mean me." He drew close to Jackie, and their lips met in a kiss so intense it made Donna turn away and Eric sputter.

"That's blasph—Leia would so—George Lucas got it wrong, damn it!" Eric pounded the table with his fist. "Wrong!"

"You do know Hyde and Jackie aren't really Han and Leia, right?" Donna said, and Eric let out another glum sigh. "Fine. This Leia wants only you." She combed her fingers through his hair and kissed him as deeply as she felt comfortable doing in public.

"Oh, Leia..." Eric said afterward.

"It's Steven," Jackie said to Midge. "He's the best kisser."

"She's just saying that 'cause she doesn't want to hurt Hyde's feelings," Kelso said.

Red's fork and knife clattered to his plate. "Okay, that's it. No more kissing, no more Goddamn _Star Wars,_ and no more throwing food..." he scowled at everyone but Mrs. Forman, "you got that?"

"Yes, sir," the table collectively answered.

The look in Red's eyes made Donna shudder. She hugged Eric's arm and whispered in his ear, "You were right. Red _is_ scarier than a fire-breathing dragon."

"Told you."

* * *

The waiters had cleared the table, and everyone ordered dessert, but Hyde was ready to skip out. Having to wait twenty minutes for some cake wasn't worth it. He leaned in to tell Jackie his thoughts when something orange whizzed past his face. It landed on Bob's tie and exploded in a goopy rainbow.

"What the hell?" Bob said. He examined his tie just as a green blur hit Red's cheek and burst into a glittery splotch.

"Oh, God." Jackie grabbed Hyde's tie and pulled him under the table. "I knew it!" she whispered. "I knew these weren't Mike and Ikes!"

Above them, Kelso laughed wildly and shouted, "Sparks fight!

"No fair! You and Fez are the only two who have ammo!" Forman yelled back.

More shouts and more laughter followed. Then, beneath the table, Jackie showed Hyde her napkin. Inside were oblong nuggets of red, yellow, orange, and green. They looked exactly like Mike and Ikes, except they threw off colorful stars of light.

"I took them from Michael's suit jacket when he went to the bathroom," she said.

Hyde grabbed a few. "You are _so_ the chick for me."

She pecked his lips, "Aim for Michael's eyes," and rose above the table.

He joined her. The white table cloth was stained with color, as were the faces of everyone but Kelso and Fez. The two were still hurling Sparks at their angry friends. If they hadn't been seated in the Vineyard's private party room, they all would've been kicked out by now.

Hyde didn't approve of a group-burn when it wasn't a fair fight. He whipped back his arm. "Hey, Kelso."

"Wha—"

He chucked a yellow Spark straight into Kelso's left eye.

"Ow!"

"All right!" Forman said. "The Rebel Alliance just got its X-Wings!"

Hyde and Jackie bombarded Kelso and Fez with Spark after Spark until Fez snatched a napkin dripping with molten color. He waved it in the air like a flag, scattering glittering drops everywhere. "We surrender," he said. "We surrender!"

"No!" Kelso shouted. "You don't surrender in war. You keep fighting until everyone's dead!"

Red leapt from his seat and charged across the dining area. His blue, orange, and purple hand grasped Kelso's collar. "The war is over when I _say_ it's over, Kettlehead. I am going to kick your ass so hard you'll be puking up—"

"Red!" Mrs. Forman's camera was out again, and she snapped a picture. "The color's fading!"

Hyde looked at the table cloth. The goop covering it was evaporating into the air.

"What the hell is that stuff?" Red said.

"It's a toy I got from Europe," Kelso said, "during one of my modeling jobs."

Bob nodded in agreement. The yellow gunk slopped over his dark 'fro had vanished. "It's the '80s, Red. New inventions. Big-city toy stores get that stuff first."

"My goodness." Mrs. Forman laughed. "Those Europeans have some interesting toys."

Red returned to his seat with a grimace, and everyone else sat back down, too. By the time the waiters came by with dessert, no sign remained of their rainbow war. Mrs. Forman's camera was still out and flashing pictures as people ate. Hyde had ordered some chocolate ice cream, but his focus was on Jackie. She was eating an apple tart, and he couldn't stop grinning.

"You were so badass," he said. "You'd make a great spy."

She glanced coyly at him through her lashes. "Michael should give you his eye as a trophy. You've earned it by now."

"Yeah, I could have it bronzed."

"No. Get it dipped in 24-carat gold."

They laughed, and he momentarily forgot his hatred of magic. The rainbow war had been fun, especially with Jackie at his side, and later—after Forman and Donna's thank-you speech—Hyde decided to get a memento. He went over to Mrs. Forman. She was sorting through the Polaroids she'd taken.

"Oh, Steven!" she said. "I wanted you to see this." She handed him a picture then covered her heart. "It's just lovely. You and Jackie are just..." She blinked, like she was trying to keep from crying. "For a while, I honestly didn't think you kids would make, but now..."

"Yeah." The image staring at him was perfect. "Can I have this?"

Mrs. Forman nodded. "Of course."

Everyone had gathered outside the restaurant. The rain had stopped, and Jackie thanked God for it. Even better, most of the clouds were gone. She held Steven's hand as they walked to the parking area. He'd have to lead her there safely because she was too busy gazing at the night sky.

"Aren't the stars beautiful?" she said.

"Sure."

"You aren't even looking."

"What do you want me to say, Jackie?"

She inhaled deeply. The air smelled fragrant, like it usually did after a late spring rain. "You see that bright one?" she said, pointing at the sky.

"Yeah."

She traced the outline of the Virgo constellation. "That's my birth sign."

"Cool."

"Steven!" She flicked his earlobe, and his body tensed. It was a good way to get his attention. Pinching his earlobes was even better, but she spared him. "You can be so un-freakin'-romantic sometimes."

"I'm not romantic, period."

"That is such bull. You're romantic in your own way." She looped her arms around one of his. "I just wish you could be romantic in _my_ way once in a while—without a magic spell forcing you to do it."

"Good luck getting that wish." He pressed his lips to her temple and kissed her. "You want that mushy stuff, you shoulda tried bagging Forman when he was available."

She groaned. "I don't want you to be like stupid Eric—"

"Hey, I'm standing right here," Eric said. They'd reached the Vista Cruiser. Eric's arm was around Donna's waist, but she pulled him to the other side of the car.

"Whatever," Jackie continued. "I want you to be you, Puddin'. Just... I know you appreciate things like stars and nature. It would be nice if you could share that with me when you weren't high."

"Crap." Steven looked behind him, as if he were searching for an escape route. Mr. and Mrs. Forman were taking their time in getting to the parking area, and Mr. Forman had the car keys. "

Jackie tapped her foot, waiting for Steven to say more than "Crap," but he never did. The Formans had arrived, and soon everyone was sitting in the Vista Cruiser, driving away.

* * *

"The mirror broke into a hundred thousand pieces, and Daddy shouted, 'Oops, sorry!' from the auction house roof."

Kelso was sitting in a chair beside Laurie's bed, where Betsy had fallen half-asleep. His fingertips brushed through her thick brown hair, and she sighed the way only exhausted three-year-olds sigh. The sound made him want to gather her in his arms and never let her go, but he'd be leaving tomorrow after Eric and Donna's wedding. Duty called, now more than ever, and he hated it—now more than ever.

"More story, Daddy," Betsy said in the darkened bedroom.

"I'm sorry, munchkin." He kissed her plump cheek. His lips lingered on her cool skin for a moment. Then he tucked her in more snugly. "More stories next time. Good night. Sleep tight. Don't let the flare bugs bite."

She hugged the teddy bear he'd gotten her, nuzzled her face in its fur. "Good night, Daddy."

A hundred butterfly wings batted against his heart when he turned to the door. Brooke was standing there— _for how long?_ —and she stepped into the lit hallway with him. His eyes stung from the new brightness. They'd been used to the dark, and he rubbed them.

"Flare bugs?" she said.

"Oh, they live in old mattresses," he said, distracted by the spots in front of his face. Yeah, he really needed to quit rubbing his eyes so hard. "Their asses flare with light every few seconds, and they bite, but you _really_ don't want them to bite you."

"Michael..." She smoothed a hand over his shirt, and the butterflies beat insistently against his heart. Why the hell did she have this affect on him? Maybe he was sick or something. "Are the stories—are they real?" she said. "Is Fez really a king? Are you really his Captain of the Guard?"

"Uh..."

"I can feel you in that bear," she said. "It's magic, isn't it?"

"Uh..."

Her stare was fixed on him, and his gut urged him to run. Her eyes were as brown as the pinecones he and Betsy collected last autumn. _Man,_ it should've been a crime to be that beautiful—but then he'd have to be arrested, too.

"If you don't tell me the truth," Brooke's arms were crossed now, "I'll ask Donna. Or Eric. Or I'll bribe Fez with candy to get him to talk because I have to know. Michael, you're Betsy's father, and I—I have a _right_ to know."

His shoulders slumped, and he lowered his head. "Yeah, it's true."

Gentle fingers lifted his chin, and kind, pinecone-colored eyes met him. "Thank you."

"Brooke, I—"

He couldn't talk anymore. She'd eased her arms around his back and pulled him into one of the warmest hugs he'd ever received. "So the scar on your arm," she said after a moment, "it wasn't from a car-skiing accident? It was really from a Troll?"

"Uh-huh."

"Wow..." She tightened her grip on his back. "That place—the Nine Kingdoms—sounds so dangerous."

"It's not more dangerous than life here, not really. Except for the curses and the bad luck and the Trolls out to kill you—okay, maybe..."

She pulled away and laughed. The joy on her face, in her voice... too enticing. He backed off toward the wall. He was getting hard, and he didn't want her to feel it.

"Only you, Michael, would get seven years bad luck." She was still laughing.

"You think that's impressive? I broke so many mirrors afterward my bad luck got turned into about 7,000 years, but Jackie and Eric got rid of it for me."

"By finding Snow White?"

He nodded. "You remember."

"Betsy practically recites those stories of yours in her sleep, and I'm..." She reached for his face. The butterflies flew into his throat, but her hand dropped before touching him—as if she'd thought better of it. "Yes, I remember."

She clutched at her own hands, walked down the hallway, then walked back. She was pacing. "Betsy really wants to visit Fez's castle. Maybe we could, you know, go back with you—just for a day—after Donna and Eric's wedding?"

"Brooke..." He was the one impressed now, by her. She'd accepted the truth so easily. "Man, do you have any idea how many times I've dreamed of you and Betsy going through the mirror with me? Like, a bajillion. And you and I are usually doing it all over the castle—"

She cleared her throat, and he frowned. _Right._ Even without his stupid anti-screwing wish, he and Brooke would never be doing it again.

"Anyway," he said, "I'd love for you and the munchkin to visit the castle, but Fez has got the Candy and Pie Expo coming up, and we've got this huge meeting with a bunch of royalty. Really important stuff. But once all that's over with, yeah. I'll bring you over."

"Michael Kelso," she finally touched his face, "you've really changed, haven't you?"

"I guess." He rubbed his palm over the back of her hand, and he imagined himself sitting in the grass with her somewhere, beneath a clear blue sky. Her back was flush against his chest, and her head leaned on his shoulder. His arms wrapped around her stomach while Betsy happily chased a yellow butterfly. The feeling that filled him was indescribable.

It was nonsense... unlike the Formans' hallway, which was just cream-colored and boring.

"So..." he said, leaning against the wall, "you wanna do it in your car?"

Brooke groaned. "No."

"Thought I'd ask."

* * *

Hyde and Jackie were back in his old room. She'd changed into her flannel pajamas and wouldn't shut up. The topic was one he loathed, and he'd disengaged. His suit jacket, dress shirt, and slacks were piled on top of the armchair. His night clothes lay on the cot next to Jackie, but he wouldn't go near her in this state. She was liable to kick him in the stones.

"So you wouldn't have any problem with your mom or Bud coming to our wedding?" she said.

He stiffened and curled his fingers into fists. He was _this_ close to walking out in only his boxers. "Like I said, I live for today. They're yesterday..."

She was staring at him, _inside_ of him, and it made him increasingly uncomfortable.

"You wouldn't know where to send their invites anyway," he said, but her stare didn't falter. "Would _you_ want them there?" She said nothing, and he should've quit talking, but her eyes—they were steely and so damn honest in their concern for him. "Fine. So what if I'm still pissed off at them? It's part of what makes me _me."_

Finally, her gaze relaxed, but she fiddled with her pajama bottoms, tying the drawstring into a knot. "I don't want you to shut down to protect yourself."

"Maybe if you'd quit fuckin' interrogating me—"

"Steven, I am not interrogating you. I'm trying to _talk_ to you, have a conversation. About meaningful things. Like you used to 'encourage' me to do when we first started dating."

"Look, you gotta stop it with the questions, okay?" He risked a kick to the stones and snatched up his white undershirt. The basement was cold, man, but she didn't make a move. It was safe to dress. He pulled on the shirt, but he was still cold. He grabbed his sweatpants and stepped into them.

Nope. Still cold.

Jackie's fingers were tangled in her pajamas' drawstring, and fear had equally tangled in her features. She wasn't trying to find something to hurt him with. Not on purpose, anyway. But if he did what he really wanted to do—hold her, tell her how much he fucking loved her—she'd believe her tactics were winners, that disassembling him brick-by-brick was the best way to reach him.

He went to the armchair and dug in his suit-jacket pocket. He pulled out the Polaroid from Mrs. Forman. His plan had been to give it to Jackie tomorrow at the wedding, but he needed to now. He pressed the picture to his stomach, covered it with both his hands. "If you can keep your trap shut for a minute, he said, "I've got a present for you." .

"Present?" She grabbed toward him like Betsy, and her expression brightened considerably. "Gimme!"

"You're such a freakin' kid..." But he liked that about her, that she allowed herself to be a kid sometimes. It was where her playful side came from and damn cute. "Here." He passed the Polaroid to her, and they sat together on the cot.

She looked at the picture silently. It showed the both of them at the Vineyard, grinning at each other. His hand cupped her cheek. Her fingertips were on his wrist, mid-stroke.

"You look happy," she said.

"So do you."

She peered up at him, and her eyes shone in the light of the room's bare bulb.

"See?" he said and tapped his face in the picture. "Everything's fine. You can quit worrying."

She cuddled into his side and rested her palm over his heart. The cold of the basement seeped out of him, and he pulled her closer. "I love you, Puddin'," she said. "That's all this is about. I love you." She pressed a hot, eager kiss into his neck. His eyes shut as another one landed right beneath his jaw... and another. The pressure of her lips and tongue heated him up, far better than his clothes did.

"Jackie," he managed to say, but she slid a finger over his lips. In moments, they were both naked. Her thighs hugged his hips, his hands clothed her bare breasts, and for the rest of the night, they kept each other warm.


	7. Joined and Disjointed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 7  
 **JOINED AND DISJOINTED**  


Eric stood by the wedding altar, keeping his arms limp at his sides. He'd fixed his gaze on the branch of a dogwood tree. Its cream-colored blossoms fluttered in the late spring breeze, but how did he see that so far away? The wall of trees lay several feet back from the wedding aisle, where Donna would eventually appear. The blossoms themselves were little bigger than quarters, but their petals were distinct to him. From his vantage point, they should've been a mass of cream-colored blobs.

Being a nervous wreck could have sharpened his eyesight. The adrenaline pumping through his veins definitely made him sweat more, and the impulse to fidget was growing stronger. A half-inch of thread dangled from his left sleeve cuff. It would've been perfect to tug at, but the best-man advice Hyde gave him early that morning had stuck with him:

_"Look, Forman, I know you're gonna get all twitchy and Forman-y up there—and as entertaining as that would be for me, I don't want Donna to get screwed over again. So you can either smoke this joint right here and and risk running around Mt. Hump naked, or you can go Zen."_

Eric had no idea what "going Zen" meant, but Hyde explained it: _"Observe, don't participate. Distance yourself from what's going on so you're watching it like a movie... until Donna shows up. Then you gotta get back into your skin, man, 'cause it would be lame as hell to miss your moment with her like that."_

So Eric's arms were limp at his sides and unmoving, just Hyde's often were. He controlled his breathing and tuned out the surrounding chatter. Wedding guests sat before him in rows of white chairs, and he ignored his extended family's attempts to catch his eye—Uncle Marty and Cousin Penny, Aunt Paula and Donna's uncle Carmine. He focused instead on the dogwood blossoms fluttering in the wind.

Taking Hyde's advice did make him feel calmer, but an unwelcome consequence was that time slowed. His mother had left his side less than ten seconds ago, after walking down the aisle with him. Yet it felt as if he'd been standing by the altar for ten minutes. At least the sky was clear and blue. The only reminder of yesterday's rain was the earthy smell of mud.

Finally, Fez emerged at the front of the wedding aisle with Sarah, Donna's best friend from college. She held a bouquet of stargazer lilies, and a rapier was sheathed at Fez's side. The wedding's proximity to the Traveling mirror required such a measure, Fez had explained. Despite how well-guarded the mirror was in his castle, one never knew what could happen. An uninvited guest from the Nine Kingdoms could jump through and crash the wedding.

"So you went with the G-String," Fez whispered in Eric's ear. He and Sarah had reached the altar. "Sexy choice, my friend."

Eric chuckled. Bach's _Air on a G String_ was playing through the outdoor speakers, a traditional processional song. Fez clearly thought the "G String" of the title meant underwear.

Kelso and Brooke walked down the aisle next. Kelso, too, had a rapier at his side, and halfway up the aisle, he nodded at Brooke. "Isn't she beautiful, man?"

"Michael, _shh,_ " Brooke said, and Eric was surprised he could hear them over the music. Her gaze lowered to her bouquet, as if she were embarrassed, but she kissed Kelso's cheek before they separated at the altar.

Hyde and Jackie followed. Hyde's sunglasses were off, and he seemed relaxed. Jackie, though, gripped her bouquet tightly, holding it in front of her stomach. Her other hand gripped Hyde's arm just as tightly. She kept quiet during the aisle-walk, but at the altar she said to Eric, "What wedding doesn't have roses?"

"Too conventional," Eric said.

The acidity of her tone sharpened. "It's bad enough I have to wear a puke-green dress, but to carry a bouquet of—"

 _"Jackie,"_ Hyde said, "shut your piehole and enjoy the damn wedding."

She moved silently to the bride's side of the altar. Her bouquet remained by her stomach, and she plucked petals off the flowers, making Eric's breath grow heavy. Not only did he have to worry about Mitch—that dillhole was somewhere in all those rows of seats—but Jackie was cranky. And a cranky Jackie was an unpredictable Jackie.

"Forman," Hyde flicked Eric's wrist, "quit fidgeting."

Eric glanced at his left sleeve. The thread dangling from the cuff was longer now.

The flower girl, a child no older than five, skipped onto the wedding aisle. A small tiara sat atop her blonde head, and she was strewing rose petals from a basket.

"What the hell?" Eric mouthed. He and Donna had chosen small carnations for the flower girl, not rose petals. He was tempted to halt the wedding, grab the basket out of her hand, and get the right flowers.

"Who's the kid?" Hyde whispered.

Eric shrugged. "A relative of Donna's... I think. She's got a thousand cousins on her dad's side."

The flower girl reached the altar and peered up at him. She was smiling—more of a smirk than a smile—and he shuddered. He'd never seen her before, but something in her face was familiar, something in the eyes. Maybe they were like Bob's...

Three sets of knuckles jabbed Eric's side, and his focus shot up. Donna had begun to walk down the aisle. Her father was beside her, and she held a bouquet of tiger lilies, but all he could focus on was her face. Her blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight, and her hair shone like angelic fire, stealing his breath. The train of her beaded wedding dress glided along the aisle runner, but his pounding heartbeat blocked all sound until her warm, soft hands grasped his.

"Donna, you are so..." he swallowed and forced the words to come, "incredibly, _incredibly_ beautiful."

She answered him with her eyes. She had this way of looking at him, intense and silent, that told him everything he needed to know. But then she tugged on his hands and burst into a grin. "Oh, my God, Eric—we're getting married!"

"I know," he said.

"And you're here."

"I am."

Her grin deepened. "And I'm here, and all our family and friends are here, and—"

"I'm here," Pastor Dan said in his smooth, Lando-Calrissian voice. "Shall we get started?"

Eric and Donna both nodded, and as Pastor Dan read the blessing, all thoughts of _Star Wars_ left Eric's mind.

"Into this holy union," Pastor Dan said, "Eric Forman and Donna Pinciotti now come to be joined. If any of you can show just cause why they may not lawfully be married, speak now; or else forever hold your peace."

Eric surveyed the guests. His mom was crying, and his dad rubbed her back. Bob's face was buried in a clump of tissues, and Midge rubbed _his_ back. Cousin Penny looked bored, much like Laurie would have had she been at the wedding—and alive. Eric half-expected to hear Mitch shout something, but he couldn't even spot the twerp.

He did spot his two invited guests from the Nine Kingdoms, though: Clayface the Goblin and Acorn the Dwarf. Both had helped him and Kelso escape Snow White Memorial Prison. They were sitting by Jerry Thunder from WFPP radio, who didn't seem to notice Clayface's green, warty skin or Acorn's gouged-out, sewn-shut eye. Like all the guests, Johnny was focused on Eric and Donna, but no one spoke.

"Right on," Pastor Dan said. "And now Donna and Eric would like to say their own vows."

Donna reaffirmed her grip on Eric's hands. "Eric," she said, "we grew up together, and I wouldn't be who I am without you. What you've given me—and continue to give me—makes my life a thousand times richer."

A high-pitched, strangled sob came from the rows of chairs. It was either Eric's mother—or Bob, but Eric's attention was set on Donna, and he refused to remove it.

Tears had risen in her eyes, and they fell as she continued to speak. "You are ridiculously patient, Eric. You always make me feel like I'm worth waiting for. Your generosity taught me that I'm worth giving to, and your bravery awes me—"

An incredulous laugh escaped from behind Donna, _Jackie,_ but Eric didn't care. Neither did Donna, apparently, because she spoke as if she didn't hear it.

"—it awes me, Eric. What we've faced together..." Her voice grew tight. "I am so much stronger when you're with me. I know you don't believe that, but it's true."

Eric's eyes began to sting, and his throat felt thick. Of all people in his life he fought to be brave for, it was her.

"And..." she chuckled, and her voice loosened up, "and you make life fun. So much fun. From the first time I made you eat dirt during recess to our little wrestling match last week—"

 _"Eww!_ No one needs to hear about that, Donna!" Jackie again. A few of the guests laughed, and Eric bit back a grumble.

Donna, though, sighed. Then she thrust an elbow into Jackie's ribs, making Jackie cry out and hide behind Brooke.

"You can actually pin me down now," Donna said, returning her full attention to Eric. "We grew up together. We're _still_ growing together, and no one else— _no one_ —has the effect on me you have."

She swept a hand up his arm and slid her fingers into the back of his hair. Every part of him, from his skin to his blood, wanted to pull her into the woods beyond the wedding area, to tear off her dress, and start the honeymoon early. But they weren't married yet, and the more she spoke, the more intense his feelings grew—and waiting would only add to their wedding night.

"Eric, I promise always to listen to you, even if I'm pissed off. It might take a few hours to get my hearing back, but my deafness is never permanent. I promise to stand by you during your best times and dumbassery because I will always love you. No matter what happens in our lives, I will _always_ love you."

Several more sobs came from the guests, but Eric's throat felt even thicker. He swallowed, hoping to rid himself of the lump. "Donna—" he said with some difficulty, "God, it's hard to even look at you, let alone talk because..." he swallowed again, "because you are the most amazing person I have ever known. I've loved you since the day we first met, when you punched me in the stomach. I loved you more when you sat on my head the next day during recess—"

Hyde laughed behind him, probably remembering that day himself, and Fez whispered, "Sexy."

Eric's hands glided to the small of Donna's back, both out of tenderness and a need for her strength. "Everything you do, Donna, makes me love you more. Even when you get angry at me—because I learn from it. I become better because of it, because of you."

He swallowed a third time. She was looking at him with _that_ look, and he knew what she was feeling, just knew.

"I am tremendously grateful that you're in my life, to whatever force—maybe _the_ Force—allowed us to meet. And I swear I'm gonna do everything I can to make you happy, to keep you happy. Because you make me happy, Donna. You—"

"Oh, my God! Oh, G—God..." Jackie had started up again. Her bouquet lay by her feet in a pile of stargazer lily petals, and her face collapsed into a pool of tears. "N—no! He'll never..." Her crying grew more staccato by the second, like she was hyperventilating, and she looked as though she might faint.

"Shit." Hyde darted behind the altar and pulled her aside, but she shoved at his shoulders. Then—as if she'd never been crying at all—she smoothed down her dress, picked up her decimated bouquet, and stood silently by Brooke again.

Hyde returned to Eric's side, and Eric looked at him questioningly. Hyde only shrugged, but that wasn't good enough. After the honeymoon, they were going to have a talk about Hyde's crazy, spotlight-hogging fiancée.

"Anyway," Eric said, running his hand up Donna's back, "you're more than my Princess Leia, so much more. You're the only girl—the only _woman_ I've felt this way about, the only one I ever _will_ feel this way about, and I swear I'm gonna do everything I can to be worthy of how you love me."

"Eric—" Donna covered her mouth. Her flushed cheeks and teary eyes served only to make her more gorgeous.

"And now if the best man will present the rings," Pastor Dan said, and Hyde pulled two gold rings from his tuxedo jacket. Pastor Dan took the larger ring, Eric's, and gave it to Donna. "Donna, please repeat after me."

She placed the ring at the tip of Eric's left ring finger and repeated Pastor Dan's words. "Eric, I give you this ring as a sign of my love and faithfulness. Receive this ring as a token of wedded love and faith."

Pastor Dan gave Eric Donna's ring. Eric repeated his words, and as the ring slid up Donna's finger, Eric's heart weighed less than a feather. Not since his senior year of high school did his chest feel so light and clear.

"We who have come together today," Pastor Dan said, "have heard the willingness of Donna and Eric to be joined in marriage. They have come of their free will and in our presence, have declared their love and commitment to each other..."

But all Eric could hear was Donna's breath until Pastor Dan said, "You may now kiss your bride."

"Oh, happy day!" a tiny, feminine voice squeaked. It was Donna's engagement ring, and the pearl hummed cheerfully.

"'Happy day,' indeed," Eric said. "Yes, yes..." He leaned forward, and Donna hugged his waist, and they both smiled into the kiss until it became too deep.

* * *

Kitty finally stopped crying by the time Red escorted her to the banquet area. Her face was a cloud during the ceremony, dropping tears in sheets and making her lightheaded. If the ground hadn't been muddy from yesterday's rain, her tears would've done the job. Her son was so handsome in his tuxedo, so adult in the vows he shared with Donna. Kitty hardly believed how much he'd grown the last year. His focus and drive reminded her of Red.

"How the hell did Eric get Donna to agree to that?" Red said, gesturing above him. They were passing through an archway of white-frosted cupcakes. It led to round banquet tables.

"Actually, it was Donna's idea," Kitty said. She blotted her nose with a tissue and laughed. "There's going to be a trampoline on the dance floor, but _that_ was Eric's idea... by way of Michael Kelso."

Red tightened his grip on her hand. "Of course it was."

Ivory-colored paving stones covered the ground. White and purple flowers garlanded the banquet tables, and Red pulled a chair out for her. He sat down himself and pecked her lips. The moment made her pause. Red was _her_ Red again, the man she'd fallen so deeply in love with thirty years ago. The last year, he'd admitted things she never thought she'd hear, truths that almost broke them apart.

Her menopause and drinking had scared the hell out of him. He thought he'd lost her to hormones and alcohol, and it drove him to focus on other women—like Jackie's mother and those car-show harlots—something _her_ Red had never done after he proposed to her. He'd always made it clear she was the only woman for him, and she never doubted he would stray until Pam Burkhart flounced back into town.

But after Laurie visited them the first time almost a year ago, Kitty's hormones calmed down. Her reliance on alcohol diminished, and she felt like herself again, too. Red admitted those frightening things to her, but their marriage came through it much stronger—and much happier. She always believed she and Red could get through anything together, and the last year confirmed it.

"What did you think of the ceremony," she whispered as other guests joined their table.

"Too long," Red said and tinkered with the table's garland, "but I'm glad Eric made it to the end." A braid of scarlet was peeking from his white sleeve. It looked like woven hair.

"Red, what's that?"

"Just, uh..." He pulled the sleeve back over the braid. "Just something my mother gave me."

Kitty patted her heart and nodded. He'd worn it to bring his mother's spirit to the wedding. Though she never liked the woman—actually, what Kitty felt was more akin to hatred—she hoped Bernice had found peace in death. She'd brought Red into this world, and for that Kitty would always be grateful.

Tears threatened again at the thought. She thanked God, too, for Red's presence in her life—and for so many other things—until her sister, Paula, sat next to her. Paula was gorgeous in her perfectly-applied Kathy May cosmetics, and she pepped Kitty right up.

"You did a great job with him," Paula said. Her pink-lacquered nails shone in the sunlight. It was a lovely shade, and Kitty would have to buy some from her—at a discount, of course. "He's grown up so well."

"Do you mean Eric or Red?" That was from Red's brother Paul. He was seated close by, and the coincidence of his name to Paula's always tickled Kitty. "'Cause Red needed a lot of work!" Uproarious laughter swallowed his last word.

Paul and Red were very different in temperament. Smiles came far more easily to Paul, and sometimes Kitty believed all they had in common was their mother's red hair—only Paul had much more of it.

"Penny," Paul said, chuckling to his daughter, "which do you think Paula meant, sweetheart?"

"Oh, Daddy, she means Eric, of course," Penny said. "Aunt Kitty, Uncle Red, you really did do a fantastic job with Eric. He's matured a lot."

Kitty reached across Red and Paul and clutched Penny's hand. "Why, thank you, Penny!"

"Yeah," Red said, "Eric's half the dumbass as he used to be," and Paul laughed, but a few chairs over their brother Marty frowned. He was always sensitive, but Kitty shared his disapproval. Red just couldn't seem to be proud of their boy

Bob clanked his fork on a glass. "What about my Donna, huh? Wasn't she beautiful up there?"

"Prettiest bride I've ever seen," Bob's brother Carmine said. He had a thick New Jersey accent and looked as if he'd come straight out of that _Godfather_ movie. Kitty suppressed a shiver. If Eric had run out on Donna this time, he might not have come back with his thumbs.

The large table erupted in conversation, filled with both the groom and bride's families. A few minutes in, Red's hand dropped below the table and landed on Kitty's knee. She giggled as if she were a teenager, giddy with it all. She wasn't sure if she'd ever have a moment like this, celebrating her child's marriage with everyone she loved. But the day had come. The only thing missing was her daughter, Laurie.

Penny so reminded Kitty of her, same blonde hair, same smile. But as similar as they were physically, their attitudes matched even more. They both treated Eric with condescension. Neither had much direction until recently or seemed able to commit in a relationship. But Penny's date to the wedding appeared to be a fine young man. He was attentive, unfolding and placing her napkin on her lap. Making sure her glass was filled with water. Getting a server's attention when Penny complained the appetizers hadn't arrived yet.

He was quite handsome, too, with a rugged face—like Casey Kelso's—but a playful glint in his eye like Steven. His black hair was slicked-back. His pinstriped suit made him appear rather dashing, and those brown eyes—so hard not to gaze into them.

"Kitty..." Red squeezed her knee, and she snapped out of her daze.

"Oh, my..." She laughed out of embarrassment. "I was just... Penny, you never introduced us to your, um... friend."

Penny gasped and covered her heart. "I am so rude! Aunt Kitty, Uncle Red, this is Warren. Warren, this is my aunt and uncle."

Warren stretched his arm across the table and took Kitty's hand. "Huff-puff," he said, "your succulent beauty rivals Cinderella herself, but that's to be expected. You're Penny's aunt, after all."

Kitty's cheeks grew hot as a huge snort ripped from her. "Only by marriage..." Then she turned to Red. "Did you hear what he said to me?"

"Yeah, I heard it." He tore Warren's hand from hers with a grunt.

Kitty kept blushing, elated by Red's jealousy. He still got so worked up about her, even thirty years later, but she hid her delight and focused on Penny and her date. "So, Penny, how did you two meet?"

 _"Meat!"_ Warren shouted, as if some force had taken him over Then he scratched at his temple with two fingers. "Pardon me. I'm just hungry."

"Oh, I'm used to it," Kitty said. "Eric sounds just like that lately. You know, this morning he told me to drop a whole pig on his plate. Said he'd carve out the bacon himself!"

Warren nodded. "Your son and I have a lot in common."

"I don't think so," Red said.

"Red." Kitty was about to elbow him, but the servers finally arrived with the appetizers, bruschetta with olive oil and prosciutto. Warren ate his with gusto, and his eyes flashed orange.

No, that couldn't be right. People's eyes didn't flash orange. The sun must have reflected in his eyes. Either that, or Kitty's mind was addled by the wedding. She'd experienced so much emotion today. Who could fault her for hallucinating a little?

* * *

The servers cleared the tables of empty appetizer plates, and Hyde put something on top of Eric's head. Eric had no idea if it was a tomato slice or a napkin. His attention was only for Donna. She looked delectable beneath the bright, blue sky. The sun glittered off her beaded wedding dress, and her skin seemed to glow softly. Having an outdoor wedding had definitely been the right idea.

"So, Mrs. Pinciotti-Forman," he said, scooting his chair closer to hers, "you've been my wife for almost a half-hour now. How does it feel?"

"Well, I really like it when you call me your wife." She slid her hands over his knees, which made his insides tingle. He still wanted to start the honeymoon early, but he'd ordered the roast sirloin of beef— _cooked rare_ —for his main course. A full-stomach would make him a better lover. "I also love how you're looking at me right now," she said.

"How about when I kiss you—no longer as your fiancé but your husband?"

They leaned into each other and began to kiss, but Fez banged the table. "Must you two keep doing that?" he said. "It gives me needs."

"Fez, it's our wedding day," Donna said, but Fez no longer looked in their direction. He was staring across the banquet area at another table. Mitch was seated there with Big Rhonda, who was his date. A weird pairing if there ever was one, a Dwarf and his Giantess.

Eric gestured to Rhonda, not that Fez noticed, and said, "Why don't you go talk to her?"

"Ai... I could not do that." Fez glanced back at Eric. "I have not seen her in years. The last time I did, she choked me because I tried to steal third base. Not my kingliest act."

"No," Hyde said, "but it was the act of a dog, which you were once. _Literally._ And you changed back into a man. So be a man and go talk to her."

"Ai..." Fez returned his stare to Rhonda.

"Uncle Fez is sad," Betsy said from her high chair.

She was sitting between Kelso and Betsy. Kelso had put some purple flowers in her hair, and now he opened a box of crayons for her. "Yup, but he won't be once you draw him a magical drawing."

Brooke removed some paper from her diaper bag, but she gave Kelso a stern look. "Magical _imagination_ drawing, right, Michael?"

"Right, right."

"Michael..."

"You need Pixie dust for that, and I didn't bring any. God, Brooke! Don't you trust me?"

She sighed. "I just don't want one of Betsy's tornadoes to come off the page and destroy Eric and Donna's wedding."

"That only happened once—and in an open field," Kelso said. "The cows were fine. Dizzy, but fine."

"Moo!" Betsy said and giggled. Her fist held an orange crayon, and she swirled it on the paper. "Moo!"

Kelso and Brooke exchanged secret smiles, like they'd been doing since they sat down. They weren't too secret, though, or else Eric wouldn't have spotted them. Brooke knew the truth about the Nine Kingdoms now, and according to Kelso she'd taken it well.

"They look like an adorable family," Donna whispered.

"They do," Eric said. "Too bad Kelso has no idea what family really means. You'd think a guy with six siblings would."

She laughed then stopped abruptly. "Wait, that's actually kind of sad."

"You know what would cheer you up?" he said. "A kiss from your husband."

She laughed again, and they managed to make out for at least a minute before they were disrupted.

"Eric, Donna, congratulations!" Cousin Penny had come by their table. A blithe expression lit on her face and a tight, red dress hugged her body. "The ceremony was lovely, really."

He hesitated before answering. "Thank you, Penny."

"It's too bad Grandma couldn't be here to see it. You're the first of us to get married."

Eric's hand twitched, and he clenched it into a fist. Grandma Forman, who he'd unintentionally killed with his words. He was driving her back home after Sunday dinner, and she'd called him out on the truth.  
 _  
"You don't like it when I come to visit."_

 _"Yes, I do,"_ he said. " _I really do."_

_"You're a filthy liar. You didn't learn to lie from my Red. That came from your mother."_

_"Well, you see, Grandma,"_ he said, _"that's the problem right there, okay? Every time you come to my house, you spend the whole day criticizing my mom."_

_"Well, I tell it like it is."_

_"Okay, Grandma, then here's how it is: You're very nasty. And I don't see why you have to be so hateful. I don't think being nice for a whole day would kill you."_

He stared at the road, waiting for an answer, and a heavy weight fell onto his shoulder—his grandmother. She was dead, just like Laurie.

Because of him.

Penny nodded sadly, bringing him back to the present. "It would've been nice had Grandma lived long enough for your wedding."

His heart sagged against his ribs. "Nothing was nice about her," he said, but Penny didn't seem to hear him. She pointed across the banquet area, at a table piled high with wedding presents.

"Anyway, Eric, I got you a nice gift. You should open it before the honeymoon... Oh, my God!" She dashed to Jackie's side, two chairs over. "Is that an engagement ring?" She grasped Jackie's left wrist. "Wow, it's so beautiful. Can I see it?" She reached for the ring, but Jackie slapped her hand away.

"Yeah," Hyde said, "Jackie hasn't taken that ring off since I put it on her. She's half-in love with it."

"I understand why," Penny said. She was using that fake, saccharine tone Eric hated. "If I had a ring like that..." She waved the thought away. "Well, you must really love her, Hyde."

Eric pressed his forehead into Donna's shoulder, trying not to laugh. He wanted to burn Penny so badly, to say something unbelievably nasty. She wasn't known for fidelity—to friend, family, or the string of boyfriends she'd had over the years. He was surprised she even knew the word "love".

Jackie flashed Penny a dirty look and stroked Hyde's cheek. "No one else gets to touch this ring, just as no one else gets to touch my man."

Penny smirked, and Eric didn't like it. She was a troublemaker, always had been. She liked to skulk around, hoping to catch someone doing something wrong. Then she'd tattle. Or worse, she do something illicit herself and pin the blame on someone else—usually him.

"Okay, Penny, thanks for the visit," Eric said. "You can—"

"Penny, darling!" a man called from somewhere. "The main course is about to be served."

"Excuse me," Penny said and returned to her table, but Jackie froze as if she were spooked, and strong hand gripped Eric's arm—Donna's. She seemed frightened, too.

Eric brushed his fingers through her hair. "Hey, what is it?" but she shook her head and loosened her grip.

"Nothing. I just thought—never mind."

The servers brought their dishes. Eric's mood had darkened somewhat, but the smell of barely-cooked beef lightened it again. His belly rumbled as if he hadn't eaten in days, despite the pound of bacon he ate this morning. Regular exercise had definitely increased his appetite, but not just for food. Donna looked so tempting in her wedding dress. He couldn't wait to rip it off her.

* * *

"That was one helluva steak," Red said. He licked the remnants of steak juice from his fork. "I coulda had two or three of those." And he could have. Whoever Eric hired to cater this wedding, they weren't idiots in the kitchen. Hell, the whole wedding had gone off without a hitch, and the best part was he didn't have to spend a penny.

Kitty patted his arm. "Oh, Red, you're such a carnivore..."

"Yeah," Bob said, "I could never be a—whatchmacallit—one of those vegetarians." He stuck his last bite of lamb chop into his mouth and spoke while he chewed. "Eating only beansprouts? Not for me"

A loud gasp escaped Warren, Penny's weirdo of a date. "Who could deny himself the tender flesh of a lamb? Or the meat of a deer after a lengthy chase across a field?"

Bob shrugged. "I don't know, but there's a whole flock of plant-eaters out there. It's a fad or something, like Feminism."

"Savages," Warren growled, and Red rolled his eyes. _Weirdo._ He even smelled weird, not like a man. More like an animal."Feminists aren't savages," Midge said a few chairs away. "They're fighting for equality between the genders—and the right not to shave their legs. Bob never understood that, which is one reason I divorced him."

Warren frowned. "Oh, I didn't mean the feminists. I meant the vegetarians." He ran a hand through his black hair, and his voice took on an affected, theatrical quality. "Yes, I prefer my meals fleshy and my women hairy. Shaving is definitely not a requirement for me."

"Well, that's just great..." Red said, excluding the word "dumbass" for Kitty's sake. He glanced over his shoulder at the bride and groom's table, if only to separate himself from the current conversation. The foreign kid was sitting there next to Kettlehead. Unbelievable, but they got stranger every time he saw them. They both wore rapiers at their sides—for what reason, he couldn't fathom. But considering Sabu turned out to be a prince from—wherever—and footed the bill for the wedding, Red wasn't about to complain.

"What _is_ that sound?" Kitty said. "I've been hearing it for over five minutes."

"What sound?" Red said, and then he heard it: a faint, high-pitched rumbling. "I'll go find out."

He stood from the table, grateful for the break. A man could take only so much socializing. He followed the sound across the banquet area, mumbling thank-yous to people as they congratulated him. He also said an inaudible, "Fuck you," to Kitty's cousin Alice for her unwelcome comment:

_"It's so nice Eric gave women another try. Maybe you'll get some grandchildren."_

He never liked that woman. Fortunately, only weddings and funerals ever brought them together.

The rumbling was loudest through an arch of purple-frosted cupcakes. Red walked beneath it and stepped onto the peach travertine dance floor. A wall of tall hedges surrounded the area. At the center of the floor was that sickly-looking guest Eric had invited, the one covered in warts. A chainsaw was in his hands as he busily worked on an ice sculpture.

Red approached him tentatively and said, "What are you doing?"

The man peered behind him, giving Red a glimpse of his hideous, green face. "Carving."

"I see."

But Red didn't see at all. The ice block was cut into ten different figures. Two vaguely looked like Eric and Donna. Another resembled Steven, and one kind of looked like Kitty. Beneath them were the words, "The Love that Saved the Nine Kingdoms".

Red grumbled on his way back to the banquet area. This wedding was filled with weirdos.

* * *

The wedding cake looked beautiful—not to mention delicious—with all the purple and white sugar flowers on each tier, and Jackie ached to have a piece. But her puke-green dress, despite Mrs. Forman's late-night alterations, kept growing tighter. She shouldn't have eaten the main course or the appetizer, but the food tasted too good.

Donna and Eric cut into the cake, and everyone laughed as Eric shoved his piece into Donna's face. She retaliated swiftly, however, smearing his mouth and nose with buttercream.

"Wedding burns are the best," Steven whispered. His chuckling tickled Jackie's ear. His arm was draped around her waist, but none of it comforted her. She wanted to shrink into a grain of salt. The thought he could feel her bloat—and the shame she felt at disrupting Eric and Donna's vows—was almost too much to bear.

Usually, she could control her impulses. She didn't actually care if the wedding had no roses, and Eric _was_ brave. He'd proven it last year with everything that happened through the mirror. So why hadn't she kept her mouth shut during the vows? Why had she cried so hysterically? It was like some parasite had crawled inside her brain and spat out the nastiest pieces of herself for everyone to see.

* * *

Chairs lined the dance floor, and a small trampoline stood in the corner. A huge ice sculpture depicted Donna and Eric—and some other people Donna didn't bother to identify. Eric's touch kept her mind occupied, along with the DJ's voice booming through the outdoor speakers.

"It's time for the bride and groom's first dance as husband-and-wife," the DJ said. "Donna and Eric, would you please step to the middle of the dance floor?"

Eric led Donna toward the ice sculpture and held her in a traditional waltz hold. His arms were so strong now, his body so much more a man's. Music filled the air, "Thirteen" by Big Star, and her pulse sped up. Tears stung the edges of her eyes. God,she'd cried enough today, but at least they were happy tears.

"That song was on the radio when you first held my hand," she said, "and you tried to make it seem like it was an accident. We were, like, ten."

"Yeah..." Eric waltzed her around the ice sculpture. "All the songs I chose are from our history."

The sentiment soaked in, and she hit his chest affectionately. "I can't believe you remembered."

"I remember everything about you... about us."

"Eric..."

She cupped his face, and their first marital dance turned into their sixth makeout session as husband-and-wife.

* * *

Aerosmith's "Same Old Song Dance" blasted through the speakers once the bride-and-groom's dance had finished. Almost everyone moved onto the dance floor, and Hyde wouldn't have minded dancing to this song, but Jackie stood like a statue by the chairs, arms crossed. It had to be the choice of tunes, man. Dancing to rock music wasn't her deal, so he waited with his own arms crossed. He kept his trap shut and didn't look at her. Any little thing could set her off, and he wouldn't risk it.

ABBA's "Fernando" eventually took Aerosmith's place. That was more Jackie's style. He offered her his hand and said, "Time to put those foot-crushing ballroom lessons to good use."

"Not to this song."

"Okay, so no Aerosmith and no ABBA. What _do_ you wanna dance to?"

"ABBA is fine, Steven. But 'Fernando...'" She shut her eyes as if she were in some kind of pain. They were wet when she opened them. "Your first dance was to this song—with _Donna._ Not me."

"So what? We hated each other back then."

"It was still your first dance."

"Technically, Mrs. Forman was my first dance."

Tears carved wet roads down Jackie's cheeks. "There are so many firsts of your life I wasn't part of."

"It's not first that matters, doll. It's running the bases. Sliding repeatedly into home, man. That's how you win."

She didn't laugh, didn't even call him a pig.

He stiffened and looked up at the sky. No clouds. They'd all crammed themselves into Jackie's head. "Hey, I wasn't your first for a lot of crap either," he said, looking at her again. "Like sex, but I'm still trying to have a good time with you."

Her face reddened. "You were my second. I was your... God, Steven, how many sluts did you sleep with before me?"

This time, he stared down at the peach dance floor. A sharp breeze bit through his tuxedo jacket, but his skin, muscles, and bones were burning. He could have yelled, could have separated himself from the moment. Instead, he forced a truth through his clenched jaw: "You're the first chick I fell in love with."

"Am I gonna be the last?"

"Not if you keep this shit up."

Pain sank into his shin before he could lift his gaze, and he fell back onto a chair. Jackie's three-inch heels clacked away from him as he clutched his throbbing leg.

"Women," a deep voice said. Acorn the Dwarf was standing to Hyde's left. "My first old lady used to kick me, too, and that was before a Fairy turned her into a giant shoe. What's wrong with yours?"

"I don't know, man," Hyde said.

Acorn tsked. His face, as always, looked like it had lost a knife fight—the missing eye, the scar from his eyebrow to his chin. "She doesn't seem too happy with you."

"Yup." Hyde remained in the chair but let go of his leg. The pain in his shin had become a dull ache. "It's like she's got PMS but a thousand-times worse."

"Ah. Pulchritudinous Magic Syndrome. Yeah, my second old lady had that. But she turned herself into a dung beetle, and I never heard from her again."

Hyde nodded, though he had no idea what Acorn was talking about. Then he stood up—with no desire to learn what Acorn was talking about, either—and scanned the dancing crowd for Jackie. No luck, but he spotted Eric's cousin Penny. She must have seen him, too, because she stepped away from the crowd and walked toward him.

"Hey," he said to Acorn, hoping to cause some mischief, "have you met—"

But Acorn was no longer anywhere in sight. Smart man.

"Hello, Hyde," Penny said. Her lips were as red as her scarlet dress. "Where's Jackie? Why aren't you two dancing?"

He shrugged. "Not in the mood."

"Well..." she lay her hand on his shoulder and slid it down his arm, "would you like to dance with me?"

"No."

"All right." Her fingertips grazed his palm as they left him. His own fingers twitched at the contact, and he fought the urge to ball them into a fist. "I must say, Hyde," she said, "I'm surprised you and Jackie are together—and _engaged,_ no less. Didn't you hate her?"

"Yeah. It didn't last long." He shifted on his feet. David Bowie's "Golden Years" had begun to play, one of Jackie's favorite songs.

"It's interesting how such hatred can turn to love." Penny was smiling that crooked, shit-stirring smile of hers, but her eyes disturbed him more. They were too much like her bitch-grandmother's, containing a frigidity that never mattered to him before. "I hope the reverse isn't true," she said with empty sweetness. "Although I did hear somewhere—or maybe I read it—that the opposite of love is indifference, not hate. So you probably have nothing to worry about."

Hyde's shades were in the glove box of the Camino. He wanted them on his face, and he needed Penny _out_ of his face. "What do you want?" he said. "For me to slip up so you can go off and 'tattle' to Jackie You'll have to get your jollies off on someone else today."

"Oh, Hyde," she said as he brushed past her, "you've already gotten me off plenty. I was just curious. I'm sorry if I upset you."

He smirked. "You're not capable of that."

"Good." She stepped close to him again, too close. Her breath agitated the hairs on the nape of his neck, and he felt very cold. Worse than cold, like the earth had been knocked into deep space. "Because I wouldn't want to ruin our relationship," she said. "Friends are important, especially these days."

"Yeah, right." He pulled away from her, but Penny was the farthest thing from his mind now. _Jackie._ He had to get to Jackie. His arms crossed over his chest in an attempt to get warm, but as he searched through the dancing crowd, he shivered.


	8. Lured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 8  
 **LURED**  


Fez enjoyed dancing with the ladies, and the ladies seemed to enjoy dancing with Fez. He'd danced with Donna's sexy blonde friend from college, the raven-haired beauty from Donna's radio station job, and a host of older women, relatives of the Formans and Pinciottis. It was like a beautiful dream, one with archways of cupcakes.

Miss Kitty's cousin Alice, apple-faced and round-bottomed, was smiling in his arms as they waltzed to KISS's "Beth". She tossed back her graying brunette hair and tutted. "I don't know how you could have given Red a heart attack."

"Well, I married his daughter, who then left me for..." Fez bit his cheek to keep from saying more. Being under the open sky and surrounded by the nature of Mt. Hump should have put him at ease. No responsibilities here. No duty. But Kelso's constant presence as his bodyguard reminded him how close those responsibilities were, just a mile down the mountain and through the Traveling mirror.

"I don't care," Miss Alice said. "You are simply the most charming young man I've ever met. Your carriage is so stately. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if you were related to kings."

"Thank you."

Fez twirled her, but no matter how many women he charmed on the travertine dance floor, his gaze kept drifting to a tall, strawberry-blonde.

_Rhonda._

His feelings for her had long passed, and hers for him clearly had, too, considering how she'd tongue-wrestled with Mitch during dinner. But he hated how things ended between them, and the kingly thing to do would be to make amends.

He scanned the dance floor as the song ended. Mitch was by the ice sculpture, talking to Clayface the Goblin and Acorn the Dwarf. Fortunately, Rhonda stood a good distance away, chatting it up with Miss Kitty's sister, Paula.

Fez kissed the top of Miss Alice's plump hand. "It has been a joy to spin your lovely frame. If you will excuse me..."

He made his way to Rhonda with Kelso following close behind. Her back was to them, but even from that angle she was attractive: tall and muscular but still very much a woman. The violet dress she wore hugged every delicious curve of her body, and he tapped her on the shoulder.

She turned around. "Coco Puff?" Her cheeks flushed, and she snorted a laugh. "I saw you at the altar during the ceremony, but close up—wow. You look great!"

Fez grinned. His Rhonda always had a way with words—no, not _his_ Rhonda. Just Rhonda. But she had used her pet name for him. Memories. That was all it was. They were both overcome by memory.

"He looks great 'cause he's _King_ Coco Puff now," Kelso said.

"King?" Rhonda said.

"Ah, yes. I am king of—of sex! Isn't that right, Kelso?" Fez stared at Kelso, hoping to be backed up in his cover, but Kelso merely shrugged. "Yes, I am a great lover now. I have swept many a-lady off her feet, and..."

Rhonda's cheeks grew even redder, and Fez realized his mistake.

"Ai, I'm sorry. I didn't mean... I'm not saying you missed out on me—even though I am a stallion—and you kept us at first base for so long, and I—"

"Shut up," Kelso whispered. "You're bombing."

Fez cracked his knuckles nervously, "Would you like to dance?" and his voice shook, sounding weak and unkingly—un _manly._

Rhonda, though, smiled. "Oh, well, I'd—"

"No, she doesn't want to dance with you, Mushmouth."

Something sharp jabbed at Fez's back. Mitch's fingers. Mitch stepped between him and Rhonda, causing both Fez and Kelso to grasp the hilts of their rapiers.

"Sugarcube," Rhonda said, "Fez and I were just—"

"Come on." Mitch grabbed her hand and pulled her away. They disappeared into the crowd of dancing wedding guests.

Fez let go of his sword and sighed. "Oh, Kelso, I once loved her as much as I love candy."

Kelso patted his shoulder. "I know, buddy. But a night with a few kinky Elves will make you forget it."

"Yes..."

"Hey, you wanna jump on the trampoline?"

Fez glanced across the dance floor. Brooke was bouncing Betsy on the small trampoline, and they were both giggling. He cracked his knuckles again as he watched them. Kelso was a wonderful Captain of the Guard, but sometimes Fez wondered if he'd made a mistake. Bringing Kelso into his complicated and dangerous life had taken him away from so much.

"Low Rider" by War began to play on the outdoor speakers, and Eric's beautiful cousin Penny emerged from the crowd. Her blonde hair was curled perfectly, and her scarlet dress could not have showed off her tall, shapely body any better.

"Hello, Fez," she said casually. "Care for a dance?"

Kelso nodded enthusiastically. "I would!"

Fez narrowed his eyes, "She asked _me,"_ and took Penny in his arms. "Shall we trip over the lights fantastically?"

"It's 'trip the light fantastic,'" she said.

"Potato tomato."

He led her through a samba, and she followed all his steps without any trouble. Her hips moved almost as rhythmically as his. She even relaxed enough for a few complicated samba rolls. He pressed his chest against her back, and they glided around the dance floor as their upper bodies made circles. The movement was very satisfying, to say the least, and she seemed to agree.

"We dance well together," she said afterward. "We should do this again some time."

"Yes, but I can only dance with you here. My duties won't let me dance with you again, not for a while."

She looked at him strangely. "What duties? Why are you talking so formally?"

He cleared his throat and laughed uncomfortably. "Nothing to do with candy, I can tell you that."

"Oh, Fez. You and your love of candy." She slid her hand to the nape of his neck. "Candy rots your teeth, you know."

"You haven't eaten enough candy in your life," he said, moving closer.

"Where I come from, we prefer bread and wine."

His lips were inches away from hers, but he dared not get any closer. This was a devious and dangerous woman, and being a dog last year had taught him to control his needs. "What are you doing here, Penny?"

"I was invited. I'm the groom's cousin."

Fez stared at her incredulously.

"Oh, don't worry." She hit his back softly then pushed him away. "I'm not going to make things difficult for Eric. This is his wedding day, after all. True love really is moving to watch, you know?. It's inspiring."

"Uh-huh..."

She left a cold kiss on his cheek. "See you around."

He stole a last glimpse of her body as she slinked back to the dancing crowd. Why did all the devious, dangerous women he knew have to be so terribly sexy? He rubbed the skin of his cheek, hoping to dispel the frigid trace of her kiss.

* * *

Eric's face lingered by Donna's bare shoulder as they danced to "Dream Weaver". They'd lost their virginity to this song, and even though he later learned she didn't enjoy it, the memory of her trust is what he cherished most. She trusted him to be that close to her, to be inside her—and now, to marry her.

He took in the gardenia and jasmine scent of her perfume but caught sight of the young flower girl. The tiara sparkled atop her blonde head, and another basket of rose petals dangled on her tiny arm. She seemed to belong to no one. Donna didn't know who she was, and he'd asked around, but no one claimed her.

"Eric, this is one of the most romantic days of my life," Donna whispered.

"Yeah. Me, too..." He tightened his hold on her waist but kept watching the flower girl. She skipped along the dance floor, tossing rose petals as she went, and disappeared through the arch of purple-frosted cupcakes. "M'lady," he said and let go of Donna's waist, "I'll be right back."

"Eric?"

"Just checking something," he called back. He was already beneath the purple-cupcake arch. The flower girl had left a path of rose petals, and he followed it between banquet tables and through the arch of white-frosted cupcakes. That girl, he knew her from somewhere, and he trailed her rose-petal path up the wedding aisle and past the wall of dogwood trees. He emerged outside the ceremony area, and he ran through the muddy earth to the kitchens. Beyond them was the entrance gate, and he left Mt. Hump's Wedding Garden through it.

The rose-petal path led into the woods, and Eric stopped. Whoever was responsible for that girl had done a horrible job. They'd let her get so far out of sight. Who knew what was lurking in the wilderness? Probably nothing like a violent Troll, but Point Place had its own sickos.

He glanced back at the Wedding Garden. Wasting time getting a security guard or the girl's parents would give a kidnapper all the time he needed. So Eric moved forward into the woods, squeezing between maples and sycamores, shouting, "Little girl! Hey, kid!"

His tux gathered twigs as he pushed through the trees. Soon, the woods opened into a clearing, and his breath caught at the sight before him. Sitting on a tree stump, tiara gleaming in the waning sunlight, was his sister.

* * *

Hyde had no luck getting Jackie to talk to him. Every time he approached her, she scurried off to a different place, so he retreated to the open bar. His father, W.B., was standing there, flirting with Mrs. Forman's overly made-up sister. A glass of white wine was in his hand, but he put it down on the bar once he spotted Hyde.

"Steven!" he said, smiling. "I wanted to talk to you. Being at this wedding's gotten me to thinking. Have you and Jackie set a date yet?"

"Nope." Hyde leaned against the bar and ordered a beer. The way things were going lately, he and Jackie would never set a date. "Why?"

W.B. laughed his light, easy laugh, which normally meant good news. "So I can pay for the wedding, son. I know the father of the bride traditionally pays, but considering Jack Burkhart's money situation..."

"Right," Hyde said, and the bartender served him a cold glass of Amber Draft. Hyde took a few swallows, licked the froth from his upper lip. He didn't speak again until Paula excused herself. "W.B., man, were you, uh... were you happy when you were married?"

W.B. laughed again, but this laughter was darker, more intense. "Sadly, no. Eunice and I, we didn't get married for the right reason. She was pregnant with Angie, and—"

"You knocked her up?" Hyde was laughing now. "Man, your back was against the wall, and that's why you got married?"

"Pretty much." W.B. picked up his wine glass and drank. "Didn't learn much from it either. I knocked up your mother, too, a few years after Angie was born."

Hyde scratched the back of his neck and looked away. Alcohol must have really lowered W.B.'s inhibitions. This was the most candid he'd ever been—with Hyde, at least. "So..." Hyde swallowed a large gulp of beer. It pushed painfully against his throat as it went down. "You ever do the in-love thing?"

W.B. raised his now-empty wine glass. "Biggest regret of my life, after not being there for you when you were growing up."

Hyde arched an eyebrow, silently urging him to continue.

"About fifteen years ago," W.B. said. "I'd just opened the third Grooves, and she was... well, she'd lost the use of her legs thanks to a drunk driver. She was afraid of keeping me 'tethered to her wheelchair' while my business was growing." He gestured to the bartender, "Scotch and soda;" then he shook his head. "Bottom line, I didn't fight hard enough for her. You're damn lucky if you find someone who opens up the world for you the way Wanda did for me."

"So why don't you find her?" Hyde said after a moment.

"I did." W.B. grabbed his scotch and soda and took a drink. "She's married to a wonderful man. And she regained almost all her mobility. The paralysis was temporary, thank God..."

"Man, that sucks—" Hyde looked down at his boots, embarrassed by his clumsy attempt at sympathy. "Not that she can walk. That part's cool, great. It sucks that you didn't, uh... you know..."

"Yeah, I know." W.B. clasped Hyde's shoulder. "It's okay. I've always been a fast learner when it comes to money. With love, though... some mistakes you can't recover from."

Hyde nodded tersely. Father-son conversations never felt comfortable—with any of his father figures. He finished off his beer and made to leave, but W.B. grabbed his arm.

"If Jackie loves you the way I believe she does, and if you love her the way I _know_ you do—the risks are worth it. Fight with her until your throat is raw. Shove yourself into her shoes, and get her into yours. Don't give yourself up in the process, but don't..." his voice shook with grief, "but _don't_ give up on her."

* * *

"Hello, little brother," Laurie said. "Congratulations on not wimping out this time."

Eric stood frozen before her, but she got off the tree stump and walked toward him. Her close proximity prompted him to move. He touched the side of her bare neck. The deadly scrapes of the poisoned comb were no longer there. Her skin was solid and warm, the exact opposite of how he was feeling at the moment.

"Are—are you alive?" he said.

"Not exactly, but whatever. I kick ass in any state."

"God, Laurie..." He enclosed her in his arms. Her warmth spread into him, thawing the numbness he'd been carrying for almost a year. "I am so sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"Kill me? Jeez, Eric, you're still such a girl." Her voice was harsh, but her hands patted his back comfortingly. "I screwed myself. I told you that."

He could barely hear her. He was crying too hard. _Damn,_ he _was_ a girl. But the last time he'd seen her, she was lying dead in a glass coffin. Didn't that give a man the right to a few lousy tears?

"Eric," she grasped his arms and pushed him away so they were looking at each other, "you're needed in the Nine Kingdoms. There's a reason I was chosen by the Evil Queen, why she wanted _me_ to finish her work against Snow White's family. And why _you_ were the only one who could save me from her."

He swallowed. "But I didn't—"

"Yes, you saved me. For once in your pathetic life, don't argue with what I'm saying."

"Okay."

"You have to accept Fez's offer. Take your honeymoon in Cinderella's castle."

"Okay."

"And no matter what happens," she said, "don't forget Donna or your stupid friends either. They need you as much as you need them."

"Okay."

Laurie shook him a little. "You're not dreaming, Eric."

"Okay."

_Slap!_

Eric's cheek stung with the force of Laurie's very real open-handed strike. His breathing, which had almost stopped, became regular again.

"That's better," she said, grinning. "Now I can give you my wedding gift." She reached into her cleavage and pulled out a handful of seeds. Then she poured them into his palm.

His fingers closed around them. "Thank... you?"

"Keep these with you at all times, until you need to use them."

"What do they do?"

"What you choose to nurture grows, loser," she said. "Flowers grow only where there are seeds."

"What does that mean?" he said, but she was backing off from him.

"Go through the mirror, _tonight._ "

She made it to the tree stump and moved toward the woods, but Eric shouted, "Wait!" and she turned back around. "In case I never see you again," he said, "I—I love you. I never said it when you were alive, but—as much as it disgusts me—I do."

"You are so lame," she said, but her eyes betrayed her. They were soft and bright, like their mother's. "See ya around, little brother."

She faded away as she entered the woods. Oblique sunrays lit the clearing where she disappeared, leaving Eric with a mind full of questions and a fist full of seeds.


	9. Destiny at Stake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 9  
 **DESTINY AT STAKE**  


Most of the guests were dancing, but Fez had crept back under the arch of purple-frosted cupcakes to the banquet area—specifically, to the table piled high with wedding presents. He put aside large boxes with sparkly wrapping paper, shook a few small boxes because maybe candy was inside, and then he found what he was looking for: a small red envelope. It didn't seem to be attached to any gift, and "From Cousin Penny" was written on the front.

His finger traced over her decorative handwriting. What kind of present could fit inside such a small envelope? He glanced over his shoulder at Kelso, who was sitting nearby with Betsy on his lap. They were sharing a piece of Eric and Donna's magnificent wedding cake. Like Kelso, Eric had risked everything for Fez to become human again, to be crowned King. All his friends had, and Fez owed them the same kind of allegiance.

He opened the envelope. A card was inside, and he read it.

"Ai... this is no good," he said and slid the card back into the envelope. Yes, Eric would very much need his allegiance. Penny was a sly one, all right, and Fez stuffed the envelope into the pocket of his slacks.

"Fez, you gotta have another piece of cake!" Kelso said, approaching him. He was holding Betsy's hand, and their faces were smeared with frosting. "Maybe bring one to Big Rhonda, if you know what I mean."

The three of them made their way to the table with slices of wedding cake. Fez grabbed himself a plate, dug into the vanilla sponge. It was sweet on his tongue, but he felt anything but sweet. "Rhonda and I had our time, my friend."

He ate his cake in silence while Kelso tossed a giggling Betsy into the air and caught her. The separation from his daughter would be particularly hard this time. Fez could see it in Kelso's eyes. Perhaps his and Kelso's time was drawing to a close, too.

A gust of wind swept over the plate in Fez's hands, blowing cake crumbs onto the ivory travertine floor. At the same time, Eric sprinted through the archway of white-frosted cupcakes. "Fez!" he said and stopped inches short of colliding into Fez's body. "Fez, I need..." He grasped Fez's shoulders and spoke with labored breaths. "I need you..."

Kelso began to laugh. "Dude, you sound like you're in a porn—" Betsy giggled at his side, and he covered himself by shouting, "A POOR STATE OF MIND!" He'd forgotten to remain child-appropriate.

"No," Eric said. "Fez, I've gotta—Donna and I—our honeymoon. We want to go to Cinderella's castle."

A thin smile spread on Fez's lips, and his hand went to his slacks pocket. "I thought you might have a change of heart. Everything is already arranged. Attendants on both sides of the mirror are standing by to assist."

"Oh, man..." Eric finally seemed to relax. He kept a loose grip on one of Fez's shoulders, and his body bent toward the ground. He was trying to catch his breath. "Man, that's great," he said after a moment. "That's really great. _You're_ great. Thank you."

Fez nodded, but his gaze followed the path Eric had taken from the archway. Rose petals were scattered on the ivory travertine. Looked like someone had been visited by a certain sexy spirit.

* * *

Hyde sat by the cupcake arch as the ice sculpture melted. For the last twenty minutes, wispy clouds had drifted in the sky while Jackie did everything but come near him. She bunny-hopped with Bob and Mrs. Forman, having found her will to dance. She yakked it up with Donna and Brooke about her hair or some superficial crap, played "Miss Mary Mack" with Betsy. His muscles tensed as the minutes ticked by. He could've used a joint—or a talk with Forman. But Forman was busy slow-dancing with his wife, and Hyde wouldn't bring down their wedding with his shit.

But he needed to talk to someone. His muscles were stiffening to concrete, and he had to move before losing the ability to act. Zen—distancing himself from unpleasant situations—protected him only so much. At some point, it became a weakness. He got off the chair and stretched his back. Then he trudged over to the trampoline. Kelso was jumping on it while Fez counted, "Thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine..."

"Hey," Hyde said, and Fez turned around.

"Why so glum, chum?" Fez said. "You look like Kelso slept with your mother... a-burn!"

Hyde scratched his cheek and stared at the trampoline. "I'm having a little trouble with Jackie."

"Sex trouble?" Kelso said gleefully. He continued to jump, and his chin-length hair flopped as he moved up and down.

"Kinda... Well, no..." Hyde's arms fell limply to his sides. Talking about this crap was harder than he thought. "I found these 'Study Abroad' brochures in her suitcase."

Fez's face lit up. "So it _is_ a sex problem. She's thinking about switching teams?"

"Not 'study a broad,' man. Like going to school in another country. But then the other night, she offered to do _that—_ "

"No..." Fez covered his mouth as his voice grew hushed. "Not the forbidden back door."

Hyde nodded, and a loud, "Oh!" escaped Fez and Kelso's lips. Kelso leapt off the trampoline, Fez put his arm around him, and they both lowered to their knees in a bow of worship.

"I am the king of a nation," Fez said from the ground, "but _you,_ Hyde, are the king of girlfriends."

Kelso stood up first and dusted himself off. "Yeah, not even Laurie would do that. The only chick who did was the skankiest skank I could find."

"Hyde's mother?" Fez stood up, too, and Hyde slammed a fist into his shoulder. "Ai... Kelso, he just assaulted your king."

"You mom-burned him, man. That deserves a punch, sorry. And, Hyde—it _was_ your mom."

Hyde's fist slammed into Kelso's shoulder, too. "Would you morons focus? I didn't take Jackie up on her offer—"

"Wimp! Pussy!" Fez and Kelso shouted.

Hyde double-frogged them, and they finally shut up. "Look, she's been running hot and cold with me for months. One second, she hates my guts. The next, she wants me to take her up the ass 'cause she thinks it'll 'make me happy'." He glanced behind him. Jackie was across the dance floor, waltzing with some relative of Donna's. "The whole thing's gotta be an act, right? Behaving like a nutjob to get rid of me."

"Get rid of you?" Kelso said. "Why would she wanna do that?"

"Maybe she's done," Hyde said. "Now that the chase is over, and she's got me wrapped up, she wants out."

Fez shook shook his head as if he knew something Hyde didn't. "If Jackie offered to do _that,_ she is completely smitten with you, you lucky sonuvabitch"

"Fez is right, man," Kelso said. "She never even did doggy-style with me, and she kissed Pink Floyd only once."

"Huh..." Hyde looked over at Jackie again. The waltz was finished, and she was chatting with Mrs. Forman. "So what the hell is going on with her?"

"Yes... that is a good question," Fez said.

"I've been asking myself that for a while," Kelso said and gestured to himself. "I mean, she chose you over all this! You ask me, that chick hasn't been right for years."

For a long few seconds, the three of them stared at one another in silence. Then Fez tugged on Kelso's arm. "Kelso, may I speak to you in private?"

Kelso nodded, and wordlessly, he and Fez ducked beneath the cupcake archway—probably to get the last piece of wedding cake—and disappeared into the banquet area. Some freakin' help they were. Hyde grabbed a cupcake from the arch but decided against chucking it their heads What did he expect, man? He was talking to everyone but the one person he needed to.

Jackie had vanished again. He began to search for her, but the music stopped playing through the outdoor speakers. The DJ's voice took over. "All right, ladies, get ready for the bouquet toss!"

Donna stood in the middle of the dance floor with the bouquet of tiger lilies in her hands. Women assembled behind her, and a bunch of them scrambled to get to the front of the pack. Jackie should've been right there with them and throwing elbows, but she lingered in the back. No fight in her body or light in her eyes.

The men, including Forman, counted to three. Donna threw the bouquet, and Big Rhonda shoved Bob's hefty, look-a-like cousin out of the way. Rhonda caught the bouquet easily, considering she stood a foot taller than the rest of them, but Bob's cousin tackled her to the ground.

Jackie left the crowd with her head low. Hyde grasped her arm on her way past him, "What the hell is wrong with you?" and pulled her to a quiet corner by the hedge wall.

"I think you're right," she said softly. "I think there _is_ something wrong."

"What? What is it?"

"I don't know."

He didn't loosen his grip. Breaking their physical connection seemed like a bad idea, and her head was still bent toward the floor. He'd never seen her like this, so defeated.

"Is it me?" he said. "You pissed at me for not setting a wedding date? 'Cause we can do that right now. Hell, we can get married soon as we get outta here. Justice of the Peace, whatever."

"No, it's not that." She finally looked at him, and her terrified eyes cleaved his ribcage in half, exposing his hot, beating heart. Her fear blasted against him like an icy wind. "I've just had this horrible feeling lately, and I can't shake it."

"About me?"

Her eyes flicked away, which meant _no._

"About us," he said flatly.

Again, she didn't answer with words. But her her cheeks grew red, and she began to tremble.

He let go of her arm and slid his hands to her back. He locked them there. "Okay, well, what do we do?"

"I don't know."

"Jackie, you gotta give me more than that."

"Baby, I can't." Her left hand was planted on his chest. She was staring at her engagement ring, and he wanted to tear it off her finger. She kept looking at the damn thing like it had answers, like she had to check with it before she spoke. "Since you first took me to your junior prom," she said, "I always felt this diamond strand connecting us—even when I went back to Michael. It wasn't something I thought about. I just felt it, you know? And after you found me in Chicago—"

"That's history. I don't care abou—"

"Let me finish, Steven. Even during those six months you spent ignoring me, it was still there, that strand. It's kept my heart tied to yours even when I thought we were hopeless. But now we're together," her palms slipped up his arms, and her fingers closed around his biceps, " _really_ together, and I don't have to worry anymore if you love me, and I—"

"I knew it." He pulled away from her. The truth was stabbing his mind like a thousand needles, and no amount of Zen could defend against it. "Man, I knew that's what all this crap was about. Well, at least it happened before we got hitched."

Jackie's eyes widened as if he'd pumped more fear into blood. She touched the back of his hand, but the contact sharpened the needles in his head, and he turned his back on her. "At least 'what' happened?" she said.

"You figuring out you just like the chase."

"That's not true. God, you are so paranoid."

"No, I'm cautious. Maybe even a little guarded. Except with you..." his back was still to her, and all he saw was the scuffed peach stone of the dance floor, "I called in all my archers and lowered the drawbridge. Should've left at least one of 'em on duty."

"Oh, you have plenty of other ways of keeping me out, Steven." Her fingertips grazed the nape of his neck, gentle unlike her voice. "That drawbridge isn't as lowered as you think it is."

He ran a hand over his heated face. "Jackie, what do you want?"

"Just you," she said and pressed herself against his back. Her arms snaked around his waist, hugging him to her. He opened his mouth to speak, but she answered before the words left his throat. "It's not about the ring, Puddin'. I want all of you. What's inside you."

She hugged him closer, nestling her head between his shoulder blades. Her presence—all that she was and felt for him—passed into his body like warmth, and he began to relax. "I've heard some guys like that freaky stuff," he said, "but that shit's just not gonna happen."

" _Eww,_ Steven! Not that! We're going to spend the rest of our lives together. I don't want only half of you."

His eyes shut, and his fists curled, and he tried to raise the drawbridge. It was a useless effort. She was already inside the castle, inside him—even if she didn't realize it. He turned around in her arms. "You've got everything I have, doll. There is nothing else."

"Before," she glided a hand back over his chest, "I could just feel what was in there. You didn't say it much, but I knew what you felt. But now I don't— _or can't—_ and I don't know why."

The sinking sun had washed the dance floor in orange-gold. To others, maybe it seemed symbolic of marital bliss, but to him it was numbing fire. Everyone around him seemed so damn happy, dancing and smiling and kissing. Months ago, he thought he'd be one of those people.

"So you wanna take that ring off?" he said. "I can give it back to Fez, and you can go looking for someone who'll give you want you want."

"No!" She shoved herself more deeply into his arms. "The ring's never coming off, and you're... There is no one I will ever love as much as I love you."

"Likewise." He concealed his face in her hair, hiding in this moment, hiding from what was sure to come after it.

"Then fix it, baby." She withdrew from him. Then she grasped his fist and pushed it into her chest. "Make it so I can feel you here again. _Please._ "

"Jackie..." He lay his palm flat against her racing heart. She deserved better than hard knuckles digging into her. "Jackie, I'm here, okay? I'm right here."

But she didn't seem to hear him. Her eyes had grown wet and pleading.

His words hadn't done shit. Pushing through his discomfort, touching her heartbeat—he might as well have drawn a math equation on her arm. So he leaned in close to kiss her, to communicate the best way he knew how. And as his lips made contact, she turned her back on him—just as he'd done to her. Only she didn't stick around.

She walked along the hedge wall. Wrinkles in her dress caught the sun, and the green material sparkled as she moved farther away from him. His voice, his touch, they were powerless against whatever had taken hold of her. How many times had that been the case? Before they'd learned magic was real—too damn many. After their engagement, not so much. But now, as she slipped beneath the purple-cupcake arch, he felt more helpless than he had his whole fucking life.

* * *

The wedding guests had gathered outside the ceremony area, in front of the dogwood trees. They were throwing rice into the darkening sky as Donna and Eric ran, hand-in-hand, toward their ride—not the Vista Cruiser but a horse and carriage. The sight settled a giddy haze over Donna's mind. Eric was supposed to take her to a hotel for their wedding night. They were supposed to drive cross-country for their honeymoon. But as he helped her into the carriage, she noticed their luggage had been loaded onto one of the plush velvet seats.

"You changed your mind?" she said, but he only smiled and sat next to her.

The driver flicked the reins, and the carriage pulled steadily away from Mt. Hump's Wedding Garden. Family and friends shouted good tidings while she and Eric waved back. The day couldn't have been more perfect, despite the bumps. Wrong flowers, a crazy friend's inappropriate outbursts—they took nothing away because she and Eric hadn't let them.

Her hand cupped Eric's knee, and his arm slid around her shoulders. They were together now. Their lives were together, and she'd fight with everything she had to keep it that way.

The carriage crested a small hill, and soon it followed a curved path down the mountain. She and Eric were kissing passionately now, stopping only to exclaim, "I can't believe we're married!"

They eventually reached Mt. Hump Park at the foot of the mountain. The trees were thick here but familiar. She knew where they were headed, had known from the moment she saw the carriage. She pulled away from Eric's kiss and tenderly stroked his cheeks. His face was very much a man's now, but the little boy she first met still resided there, strangely smitten by the girl who'd shoved him off the hippity-hop.

"We're going through the mirror," she said, "to Cinderella's castle?"

Eric glanced down, the way he did when he was uncomfortable. But his hands caressed her waist, and he said, "I just want you to have the honeymoon you want."

"It's gonna be good for us, Eric. And for you."

"Yeah."

The carriage passed into a denser part of the woods then came to a stop. Two men approached them, dressed in the same black suit as their driver. The gold brocade lining the front flaps gave them away as Fez's attendants.

"Sir?" one of the attendants said. He helped Eric from the carriage, and Eric helped Donna. The other attendant, meanwhile, grabbed the two suitcases.

The four of them moved toward an oval blur wavering among the trees, the Traveling mirror. It would bring them back to the Nine Kingdoms, to a world where magic was very real. Donna grasped Eric's hand. Her heart was beating thunderously, both from excitement and nerves. They'd almost lost their lives through that mirror, but Eric was still partially over there. Her only hope of reclaiming him was to go back.

"Ready?" he said, and she nodded.

They stepped forward into the blur. Her grip on Eric remained tight as the mirror enveloped them in a viscous darkness. She heard nothing, saw nothing until the mirror spat them out into a chamber of Fez's castle.

Several more attendants were waiting for them, along with more than a few guards in white uniforms. The vaulted chamber was brightly lit with torches and looked nothing like the dank room where Laurie had kept the mirror.

"On behalf of King Fez, welcome to the Fourth Kingdom!" one of the attendants said. A silver snowflake was pinned to his lapel, and he bounced on his heels, as if he were excited to see them. "We have a coach waiting to bring you to Cinderella's castle."

"Thank you," Eric and Donna said together.

"My name is Aubrey," the attendant continued. Torchlight flickered over his closely-shorn red hair. He was almost too pretty to be a man. He had high cheekbones and smooth skin, and his voice was somewhat feminine, but Donna had no problem with any of that. "If you need any assistance once you're in the First Kingdom, just send a letter by messenger—though I'm sure you won't have any problems over there."

"Thank you," Eric and Donna both said again. Eric's voice caught as he spoke, and she pulled him closer to her. He seemed as anxious as she'd begun to feel.

She peeked back at the mirror. The attendants carrying their luggage had arrived through it, but maybe coming here hadn't been such a good idea. According to Fez, the Troll King's children now ruled the Third Kingdom. Who knew what grudges they held? Eric and Donna could be on their Most Wanted list.

"Eric," she whispered, "I think we should—"

"All right," Aubrey clapped his hands together, and the sound echoed loudly against the stone walls, "shall we get you on your way?"

"Absolutely," Eric said. All traces of anxiety were gone from him. His voice was solid, and his hand wasn't sweaty. He seemed okay with being here, and that thought calmed Donna greatly.

She pecked him on the lips, which made several attendants cover their hearts. One of the guards even shouted, "Let's hear it for two of our kingdom's greatest heroes!" and the chamber erupted in applause.

Donna's face flushed, and Eric stared down at the flagstone floor. Fez's people clearly hadn't forgotten their deeds, and as Aubrey led them from the chamber, attendant and guard alike cheered, "Happily ever after! Happily ever after!"

* * *

Betsy cried as Kelso finished strapping her into the car seat. Her little cheeks were red from the effort, and he gave her a as much of a hug as he could in the car. Man, goodbyes were always the worst. Especially when saying, "Hello," again would take a while.

He withdrew from the hug, and her small fingers grasped at his arms. He could have crawled into the backseat beside her, let Brooke drive them both to the Formans', and spent another night in Point Place. But he had his duty. Not only did his best friend count on him, but a whole freaking kingdom.

"Daddy!" Betsy said between sobs.

The magic teddy bear was beside the car seat. "I'm sorry, munchkin," he said and grabbed the bear. He placed it on her lap. "I'll get back as soon as I can."

She squeezed the bear tightly, burying her face in its fur. Glittering red and pink hearts floated to the car's ceiling.

"Michael..." A soft hand glided over his shoulder. He turned around to see Brooke standing there. "It's better if we do this quickly," she said.

The parking lot was packed with wedding guests, but they might as well have not been there. Those damn butterflies had returned, battering Kelso's skull with their stupid wings.

"Oh. Right." He turned back to Betsy and left a kiss on her wet cheek. "I love you."

"I..." _sniffle,_ "love you..." _sniffle,_ "Daddy."

He stepped away as Brooke closed the car door. He expected her to give him a polite touch on the arm before driving off, but she enclosed him in a hug. Her face settled in beside his, and her breasts pushed against his chest—which should've been hot 'cause she had some great knockers, but it only made him sadder.

"Be careful over there, Sir Kelso," she whispered. "We'll miss you."

He took a few seconds before answering. The butterflies were in his throat. "Me, too."

Her eyes were wet when she released him, and he didn't understand why. But she didn't mention it, just got into the driver's seat of her car. She drove Betsy out of the parking lot, and the butterflies sank to his stomach. They butted up against his belly and toward the car, like they wanted to follow his daughter and his—well, Brooke wasn't his _anything,_ really. Except the mother of his kid. So why did it feel like she'd carved out a piece of him this week and run off with it?

The Forman and Pinciotti relatives were mingling in the parking lot, taking their sweet time to get inside their cars. Kelso's gaze lingered on some of the skankier ones, like Eric's cousin Penny, and then he spotted Fez. Kelso gestured at him, and Fez gave a thumbs-up, and they met on the pathway between the parking lot and ceremony area.

"We've got our work cut out for us, my friend," Fez said. "I'm only sorry we didn't bring greaves with us. Our shins need protection."

Kelso chuckled even though it really wasn't funny. He and Fez were already up to their necks in responsibility, what with Queen Gretel's death and all. But now they had their friends to worry about, too. "Yeah, we're about to get a lot of grief, aren't we?"

"A whole beautiful buttload."

"Then we should've brought ass-guards, though Jackie's never kicked me in the ass."

Fez bent down and picked up a pebble. He tossed it into the air. "But strange things are afoot," he said, catching the pebble then tossing it again, "so her foot might just land there."

"That's true." Kelso snatched the pebble before Fez caught it. One side was relatively plain and gray. The other was mottled brown. "Gray, you have to tell her. Brown, I do."

He threw the pebble toward the sky, but Fez grabbed it. "No," Fez said. "I will tell her, but you will be my ass guard."

"Oh." Kelso batted the pebble out of Fez's hand. "Sounds fair."

* * *

The sky was growing darker, but night was still far off. Birds warbled in the surrounding trees. Some pecked at the rice left behind in Eric and Donna's wake, and Jackie hoped their stomachs exploded. She was sitting on an outcrop about thirty feet from ceremony area. Stone paths wound around her, one leading to the parking lot and the other into the woods. Silent sobs wracked her body. She didn't want anyone to hear her, but her dress had grown so tight she could barely breathe.

Storm clouds were crowding her brain, too. They pressed her thoughts against her skull. Fainting was a definite possibility if she didn't stop crying, but Steven's pained voice had crushed her worse than the dress. She hadn't seen him since their talk. Her behavior toward him baffled her, horrified her, especially since he'd responded with tenderness.

Tears fell onto the the cold rock of the outcrop, made dark spots in the gray. She swept a hand over her chest. The warmth Steven had left there remained. She could finally feel it inside her, feel _him._

"Oh, God," she whispered. Instead of sharp, jabbing knuckles, his soft palm had covered her heart—lovingly, protectively. That was who she knew him to be, who she carried with her. Relief cut through her tears as the clouds in her mind thinned. Yes, she carried him with her. He'd never left.

She pushed herself off the outcrop. She had to find him, to apologize before she fainted. Standing, though, made breathing easier. So did not crying. She headed for one of the stone paths, air filling her lungs and sweeping the haze from her head. Her mind was finally clear, but now she found walking more difficult—as if she were hefting a heavy backpack. She kept her attention forward, refusing to look down at herself. If her bloat had grown worse, knowing would only break her down again.

"Jackie!" someone shouted to her left. Fez and Kelso were dashing toward her from the parking lot. They looked like characters from a botard version of _The Three Musketeers._ Men in tuxedos shouldn't have rapiers slung at their sides. Worse, they each made a strange face once they reached her.

Michael spoke to Fez from the side of his mouth. "Dude, you were totally ri—"

Fez elbowed him in the stomach, and Michael coughed. She tried to move past them, but they blocked her way.

"Jackie," Fez grasped her hand, "you must come with us."

"Where?"

"Through the mirror."

"What?" She yanked her hand from him. "No. I promised Steven I'd never go back."

"You have to. Your destiny with Hyde may be at stake."

She froze, but her heart was pumping furiously. "My destiny? We have a destiny? We're destined?" A bout of dizziness took her over, and she cupped her forehead. Her breath must have sped up, too. "Oh, thank God. I've been so, _so_ worried about that because I've been feeling weird lately and—"

Fez took her arm this time. "Enough talk, woman! It's at stake. Do you know what that means?"

She paused a moment, and her heart slammed against her ribs. "No..."

"It means it's in trouble," Michael said.

"I know that."

Michael narrowed his eyes. "Well, if you know, then why are you acting like you don't know?"

"Jackie," Fez said, subtly guiding her down the stone path, "we must tell you something, but we cannot do it here. Please, come to my kingdom."

She shut her eyes against her growing dizziness. Breathing had definitely become harder again. "Fez—"

"We'll have you back before nightfall—but you and Hyde both might want to return after what I have to tell you."

Her eyes popped open, and she clutched Fez's shoulders. "What is it? Tell me _right now."_

"Not here. It's not safe."

_"Ugh._ Fine. But I'm only giving you five minutes. If you can't explain it within that time frame, I'm going back home."

"Deal," Fez said.

In silence, they made their way out of Mt. Hump's Wedding Garden. A man was waiting for them in a stretch of grass by the road. He wore a black suit with gold brocade accents, and the reins of three horses were in his hands. He had to be one of Fez's attendants, and the horses were probably "borrowed" from Mt. Hump Stables.

"M'lady," the attendant said, "shall I assist you in mounting your steed?"

Jackie arched an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Fastest way to get down the mountain without a car," Kelso said and laughed. "Remember that summer you got back from horseback riding camp, and you tried out some new moves on m—"

"Michael!" she shouted, but the effort almost made her collapse. Her legs were shaking. "This dress..." she tugged on the bodice, "I can't ride in it."

Fez clapped his hands once. "Ancel, your pants and shirt, please."

"Yes, Your Highness." The attendant stripped down to his undergarments and handed his shirt and pants to Fez. Then he put his suit jacket back on.

"Kelso, Ancel, close your eyes while the lady dresses," Fez said, keeping his own eyes open.

"You, too, Fez!" Jackie said. She snatched the attendant's clothes from him and walked to the front of the horses. With their wide, brown bodies blocking her, she pushed her dress to her knees. Her own eyes were shut—she didn't want to see herself—and she stepped free of the dress. It truly was freedom. That puke-green material had squeezed her far too long.

Once the attendant's clothes were on her body, she returned to Fez and Michael's side The horses whinnied and whickered, stamped their hooves on the ground. High-heeled shoes weren't ideal for stirrups, and she didn't trust herself right now to control the reins properly.

"Fez, I'll have to ride with you," she said and thrust a finger into his face. "Do _not_ grind into my back because king or no king, I'll make sure Steven kills you."

Fez tugged at his collar and swallowed. "Ai..."

Less than ten minutes later, they were down the mountain and in a familiar patch of woods. An oblong shadow obscured the branches of a large maple, and Jackie gripped Michael's arm. It was the Traveling mirror.

"My destiny with Steven is really at stake?" she said.

"Big time," Michael said.

Her throat tightened, and she glanced at her engagement ring. All the adventures she'd had in the Nine Kingdoms—as frightening as they were—brought Steven back to her. If protecting their love meant returning through the mirror, it was worth the risk.

"Thank you, Ancel," Fez said behind her. The attendant had ridden with them in his underwear, and now he rode off with the other two horses in tow.

"Fez, you go first," Michael said, gesturing to the wavering shadow. "You never know who could be skulking in these woods."

Fez nodded. Then he ran toward the mirror and jumped. The shadow swallowed him up, but Jackie was more fascinated by Michael's demeanor. His body was tense, as if ready for a fight. His eyes weren't darting around. Instead they were focused, as if his senses were on high alert. And his words to Fez had been serious. _Michael_ was serious, so unlike the wild teenager she'd dated—and then his hand slid to her butt and grabbed it.

"Hey, you've finally got an ass now," he said. "Hyde's gonna love that."

"What?" she shrieked, but her question went unanswered. Michael had yanked her forward, and she clung to him as they passed into the mirror.


	10. Broken Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 10  
 **BROKEN GLASS**  


Guests poured from the wall of dogwood trees like a rushing waterfall, abandoning Mt. Hump's Wedding Garden in the darkening sky. They babbled on about the wedding, flooded the parking lot, and Hyde pushed against the flow of people as if he were swimming upstream. Jackie was nowhere to be seen, man. She hadn't been waiting for him by the Camino, didn't linger in the wedding aisle to stare mournfully at the altar.

A few straggling guests remained in the banquet area, including that blonde bridesmaid of Donna's. She offered no help, though. She'd had one too many drinks and answered his question about Jackie by fondling his hair and saying, "If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with."

He moved past her to the crumbling cupcake arch. Beyond it, the dance floor was empty except for the clean-up crew. Part of the ice sculpture had melted to a shapeless lump. Forman's face seemed dog-like now. His cheekbones had elongated as the ice dripped and thinned. His nose resembled more of a snout. Not an improvement.

Hyde walked around the sculpture. It sat in a pool of water—a pool of _itself—_ and the clean-up crew mopped it up like the water had never been anything more than a nuisance. He touched his fingertips to what used to represent himself and Jackie. His icy counterpart no longer had a mouth, just a flat shiny surface that expressed nothing. Jackie's counterpart fared no better. The chest was sunken-in, a jagged cave where muscle and hot blood belonged. He ran his thumb over the cavity's edge. The damn thing radiated cold and made him shiver.

"Any of you seen a short brunette in a green dress?" he said to the clean-up crew. The men shrugged or shook their heads and kept on mopping. "A bitchy, cranky brunette?" More shrugs and head-shakes. "Crap."

He returned to the banquet area. All guests were gone except for the drunk blonde. She didn't seem too hot. She was using the bar counter as a pillow, and she reached for him as he passed by.

"I think I drank too much," she said.

"No kidding."

"Can't drive..."

He stared at her, and the pathetic sight rooted his feet in place. Her eyes were half-closed with tears glistening at the corners. Alcohol-fueled blood filled her cheeks. If that had been Jackie who needed a ride, and some other guy just left her there for the cops to haul away...

"Yeah, all right," he said. He put his arm around her back, did his best to get her to stand up straight. She turned in his grasp, smacking his jaw with her elbow. She had the clumsy grace of the wasted.

"God, I'm sorry." Her voice was a slur, but all the years listening to his mother's drunken speeches made it easy for him to understand this girl. "I hate weddings."

"Me, too."

He half-carried her beneath the arch of white-frosted cupcakes and up the wedding aisle. They emerged from the wall of dogwood trees, and she continued to talk as they walked along the stone path. She mentioned something about bad planning. "Should've asked Melissa to drive me back..."

He nodded as a logical thought occurred to him: Jackie had asked someone else to drive her back to the Formans'. At her core, she was a survivor, always finding some way of taking care of herself. In ten minutes or so, she'd be at the kitchen table, drinking Mrs. Forman's version of "Rock n' Roll" chocolate milk—hot cocoa or something like it. Then he'd find her there, and they'd work out the shit between them and be cool again.

Only three cars were left in the parking lot, including his El Camino. A red Camaro backed out from its parking space. The tires screeched as it jetted for the gate. The driver was in a hurry, whoever she was, and Hyde flattened himself and the drunk blonde against the lot's stone wall. Becoming roadkill wasn't on his agenda tonight.

The blonde clutched his arm and pressed her face into it, speaking after the Camaro cleared the gate. "What the hell was that?"

"Maybe someone else who hates weddings," he said. He brought her to the Camino and positioned her against the passenger-side door. "Gimme a sec." She nodded then put a hand to her forehead, as if the effort of nodding had made her dizzy.

He ran five parking spaces down and three to the left, to the last car remaining in the lot. It was a midsized Mazda, and he peered through the windshield. Empty except for a baby car seat and a cross dangling from the rearview mirror. He returned to the Camino, secure in his theory that Jackie hitched a ride with the Formans or Bob.

A few moments later, the blonde was strapped into the passenger seat. "Sarah" was what he chose to call her. She'd mumbled some name at him as he fastened her belt. Could've been "Sandra" or "Farah," too. He asked her address after they'd driven from the parking lot. She gave it to him, and his jaw clenched. She lived in freakin' Milwaukee.

"Looks like the Formans are gonna have one more guest tonight." No way was he wasting time driving to Milwaukee. Not now. He needed to get to Jackie.

He swerved onto the road leading down the mountain, and Sarah's body lurched toward the window. She was too close to passing out, so he turned on the radio, a little louder than what was comfortable. She jerked awake.

"Do you know why I hate weddings?" she said. "They remind me of something I'll never have."

"A crappy honeymoon?" he said, not that he wanted to talk. But this chick had probably sloshed down enough booze to fill a keg. Mental stimulation was the only means available to keep her from blacking out.

"No!" Her hand shot out and slapped the driver seat, his shoulder clearly being the intended target. "True love. True. Love. _True love..._ some people just aren't built for it, y'know? Even if they want it. I'm too fucking fucked up for the right guy to fall in love with me."

"Oh, God..." Hyde shut his eyes then opened them with a sigh. She was one of those girls. The kind whose self-esteem stained the crapper. Anything he said now wouldn't mean shit. She wouldn't remember it anyway.

Not that she seemed to care. Her reflection in the rearview mirror was studying him, waiting just like Jackie would have for him to say something. When he said nothing, she filled the silence. "I just want the guy _I_ fall in love with to be in love with _me,_ y'know? Your fiancée is so lucky to have someone like you."

"Someone like me, huh?"

"Yeah. Someone who thinks enough of a lushed-up stranger to bring her home. If you'd do that for me, I can only imagine what you do for her."

"Whatever it is," he found himself confessing, "sometimes it just ain't enough."

They reached the foot of the mountain, and he took the main road out of the park. Trees lined the pavement, hinting at the woods lying beyond them. The Traveling mirror hovered somewhere in the middle of those woods, and Kelso and Fez were probably long-gone through it. They'd left the wedding without a goodbye to him. Or maybe he'd been too wrapped up in his troubles with Jackie to hear it.

Either way, they'd returned to a life he wanted nothing to do with—and he desperately wanted to return to his life from a few months ago, where Jackie didn't obsess over his happiness or her engagement ring and "diamond strands" connecting their souls or some shit like that.

A sharp right turn got the Camino past a yellow traffic light before it flashed red. They'd made it out of the park and onto Sherman Avenue. Rows of stores were closing up shop, their lights going out one-by-one. Usually, the early evening set his devious mind to work, grinding out ideas how best exploit his home town. But the more store lights that flickered out, the colder he felt. His fingertips remembered the ice sculpture, the jagged hole where Jackie's heart should've been. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying to squeeze the memory from his skin.

A sharp left turn got them into a residential neighborhood. His driving wasn't stellar tonight. His mood had leached into his body—an unusual occurrence—and his lack of emotional control was rewarded by a thump on his shoulder. Sarah's unconscious face had landed there. Her cheek rocked on his upper arm while he drove, every movement of the steering wheel jostling her back and forth.

"Hey—" He shrugged her off, and she pitched over to the window. A rattle vibrated from her throat, _a snore._ She was sleeping. "Better than being passed out," he said and drove into the growing darkness.

* * *

Hyde stood outside the glass door of the Formans' kitchen. He couldn't slide it open. Sarah was sleeping in his arms. Holding her in a fireman's carry would've made her puke, so he held her the way a husband did his new bride, or—in his just-married friends' case—the way Donna was probably holding Forman right now, carrying him over the threshold of their hotel room.

Red seemed to be the only one in the kitchen. He was seated at the table, beer in one hand and newspaper in the other. Hyde managed to knock on the glass door, and Red glanced at him. "What the...?" Red mouthed. Then he stood and slid open the door.

Hyde stepped inside the kitchen and put Sarah down on a chair. Her body slumped onto the table with a sleep-induced snort.

Red glared at her, but his words were for Hyde: "What did you do?"

"Charity," Hyde said. "Where's Jackie?"

"She's not with you?"

Hyde stiffened. "No. You didn't drive her back?"

"No." Red pointed to Sarah. "This the reason _you_ didn't drive her back?"

"No, man. After the wedding, I couldn't find her. I... shit." Adrenaline hit Hyde's system, made his pulse throb in his throat, and he bolted toward the glass door. He opened the latch, but Red grasped his arm.

"Hold on, son."

"Red, I gotta go—"

"I saw you two fighting at the wedding," Red said, tugging on Hyde's shoulder, and Hyde turned from the door. "Nothing like a wedding to bring out 'the best' in a fiancée—or a wife. Fun as a sharp kick in the ass."

Hyde raised both eyebrows, a signal that Red had exactly five seconds to tell him something significant.

Red caught the hint. "A lot of pain went down between you two, especially around marriage. You know how women are. A gear probably broke off in Jackie's brain during the ceremony, and she needs time to replace it. She could've gone home with any one of Donna's friends. Or even Bob. You remember how Kitty was during the worst of _'that'."_

Hyde nodded. "That" was Red's codeword for menopause.

"It was a dark time," Red continued, "and I didn't always handle it the way a man should. But I—" He coughed, the way he always did when words too uncomfortable—too _Forman-y—_ to say were in his head. He spoke them anyway, voice fraying with the effort. "I love her. It's not something a man likes to admit because love makes us vulnerable."

A deep snore shook Sarah's body, and she knocked Red's beer can from the table. It crashed to the floor with a tinny clank, empty.

Hyde pressed his fingertips against the glass door, though he wasn't going to leave yet. The empty beer can had risen a memory he thought long-dead, of the cracked and stained wooden boards of his old house. They used to be covered in empties, and he'd trip over them even as his stepfather tossed another onto the pile. But in this memory, they were Hyde's empties. Only three of them, but enough to get a nine-year-old completely trashed. The house was empty except for them, except for _him._ And he was empty himself except for the beer, so damn empty...

"Steven?" Red squeezed his shoulder, rough but tender, something only a real father could pull off. Hyde faced him again. "Do you love her?"

"Mrs. Forman? Yeah."

"No, son, I mean Jackie."

Hyde stared down at his boots and licked his lips. It wasn't something he liked admitting to anyone but his girl. And even then... "More than I ever wanted to."

A soft laugh answered him, and he looked up. Red was smiling. "When you love a woman," Red said, " _really_ love her, her struggles become yours—and yours become hers. They're easier to take because two people are carrying the burden instead of one, you understand? Not more fun, but easier."

Sarah's sleeping body rose and fell in the periphery of Hyde's vision. He tried to break free from Red's intense focus, "Look, man, I appreciate what you're trying to say—" but Red's eyes still held him.

"Steven, whatever rewards either of you earn are shared, too. When she does well, _you_ do well. And when you're happy, she's happy."

"Yeah, she keeps telling me that." Hyde finally pulled away and grabbed the small notepad from the kitchen counter. He wrote down Sarah's address. "Man, I hate to ask you this—"

"And I hate to be asked," Red said. "What is it?"

Hyde nodded at Sarah. "I promised to get her home, but Jackie's—"

"Right." Red took the address from him and scowled. "Goddamn Milwaukee?"

Hyde patted him on the arm, "Thanks, Red," and slid open the glass door.

Red was grumbling, but Hyde ran for the Pinciottis' without looking back. Jackie had to be hiding out there, hiding _somewhere,_ and he was gonna find her no matter where the hell she'd gone.

* * *

A row of guards and attendants bowed low as soon as Jackie, Michael, and Fez were expelled from the mirror. They'd entered a high-vaulted chamber. This had to be Fez's castle, and Jackie already wanted to leap back through the mirror and into Steven's warm, safe arms. Not only had she promised never to come here again, but she was also wearing a servant's oversized shirt and pants that smelled of horse. But, considering her "destiny was at stake," she stayed put.

The guards and attendants straightened from their obeisant position. They hadn't been bowing for her, of course, though she was worthy of such adulation—just maybe not in her current state of dress.

"Welcome back Your Highness! Sir Kelso!" an attendant said. His scalp-short hair didn't flatter his delicate features, but the silver snowflake on his lapel complimented his blue eyes. He must have held a high position. "How were the festivities?"

"Excellent, Aubrey. The cake was delicious," Fez said.

Michael thrust his arms around two young-looking guards. They couldn't have been older than sixteen. "Bucardo, Weylin—how are my two apprentices doing?" Michael said. "You gonna protect that mirror tonight the way I taught you?"

"Yes, Sir," Bucardo said beneath Michael's left arm. His blond hair was mashed to his forehead, and his eyebrows twitched beneath it.

"Of course, Sir," Weylin said beneath Michael's right arm. His black hair was slicked back, but a lock of it stuck in the air. "Thank you for giving us the chance."

Michael looked sternly at both of them. "Don't throw any rocks through the mirror."

Bucardo sniffed. "We won't."

"Even though _you_ do it all the time, Captain," Weylin whispered.

"I... do... _not,_ "Michael said. He released them and slapped Weylin's head in the process.

"Ow!"

Fez's features hardened. "Kelso..."

"Hey, I'm teaching them correct soldierly conduct." Michael pointed at the young guards. "Do as I _say,_ not as I do."

"But you've done at least _half_ of the Fourth Kingdom," Weylin said, and the rest of Fez's men laughed except for Bucardo.

"Shut up, Weylin!" Bucardo frogged Weylin in the shoulder. "That's not how you speak to your superior!"

Weylin frogged him back. "Bucardo, you're such a sheep."

"Troll's balls!"

These guards were trained by Michael, all right, but Jackie had far more pressing concerns. "Okay, enough!" she shouted as Bucardo frogged Weylin again. The chamber walls amplified her voice, and the torchlight guttered at the force of it. She turned toward Fez. "Tell me. _Now."_

"Aubrey," Fez said, "we'll be going to the state room. I don't want any distur—"

"No!"Jackie grabbed onto Fez's golden sash, and the guards raised their swords. She didn't let go of him, despite the sharp, silver threat glinting at her. "No more delays," she said. "You tell me here, or I'll kick you until your shins no longer exist."

Some of the guards approached her, and she released Fez's sash, but Michael stepped between them. "Back off. Weapons down," he said, and the guards obeyed without question.

Her stomach fluttered. The sight of Michael being so commanding, so _effective,_ awed her a little.

"Everyone is dismissed except for Sir Kelso," Fez said.

Aubrey's eyes widened. "But, Your Highness—"

Fez clapped once. "I said, 'Dismissed!' We'll discuss matters later."

"Guard the chamber from the outside," Michael ordered, and his men followed the attendants through the broad chamber door.

Fez went to the mirror. Mt. Hump Park reflected brightly in the glass, and Jackie fought not to jump through it. Was Steven still at the wedding? Was he worrying about her? Celtic spirals were cut into the golden frame, and Fez grasped one of them—a triskele—and turned it up. Mt. Hump disappeared from the mirror, replaced by a purplish light, and Jackie gritted her teeth.

"Fez..." she said warningly.

"Okay, okay." Fez stood behind Michael. "Jackie, your engagement ring—"

Her eyes flicked to her left hand. The ring's sky-blue diamond gleamed in the torchlight. "What about it?"

"The ring—it is cursed."

"What?" She balled her left hand into a fist. "No, you did _not_ give Steven a cursed ring."

"I did," Fez said, face peeking from Michael's shoulder. "I did not _know_ was cursed. You see, my grandfather slayed one of the fiercest dragons plaguing the Fourth Kingdom. He took that diamond from its cave. All dragon treasure is cursed, but—"

"How could you give Steven a cursed ring?" She charged forward—no one was going to keep her from clawing out Fez's throat—but Michael grabbed a hold of her waist. She couldn't run any farther, but her arms were still free. "You idiot!" she shouted and swung at Fez's head. "'King Fez'? King Moron!"

"The dragon was dead!" Fez said and backed off toward the chamber wall. Michael dragged Jackie to the opposite wall. _"All_ dragons are dead, and their curses died with them. The ring didn't seem afflicted when Snow White wore it."

Jackie's breath sped from her, pushing her ribs painfully against Michael's arm. She was growing dizzy. "So—so our love is cursed now?"

"Let's be honest, Jackie," Michael said by her cheek, "your love was cursed before you ever got that ring, what with all the breakups and all. I mean, 'Get off my boyfriend'? A classic. Then Hyde slept with a nurse 'cause he thought you and I were doing it on Donna's couch. And then he found you with me about to do it in Chicago—"

_"You're_ the curse!" She reached back and grasped his earlobe between her fingers. She twisted it and pulled.

"Ow! Ow—OW! Not the 'Jackie ear-pinch'!" He pried her fingers off him then pinned her arms behind her back. He maintained his grip around her waist, too, and—for the first time in her life—she was effectively restrained by him. She couldn't move, couldn't fight. It was so different. _He_ was different, but so was she.

"Is..." Her heart was beating too fast. It ticked between her ears. "Is that why I've been acting so weird?"

"Yup," Michael said. "It's probably why you offered to let Hyde be your back-door man."

She glanced over her shoulder at Michael's smiling face, and her next words were a shriek: "Steven told you about that?"

"He's worried about you," Fez said and slid his hands down his golden sash. "So are we."

"Oh, you should be worried about _yourself_ because I'm—" She stopped struggling in Michael's arms. He'd pushed her toward the Traveling mirror, and she caught sight of herself. "I'm—" Her hair was orange again, brighter than Donna's. "I'm—"

"Cursed," Fez said, and Michael finally let her go. All her focus was fixed on her reflection.

"Oh, my God..." She touched her cheeks. They were pudgy. "Oh, my _God..."_ Her hands skimmed down to her stomach and grabbed two fistfuls of flesh. "I'm fat! I'm a fat, orange-haired uggo!"

"It is the curse," Fez said, "and just the beginning."

She gave her extra weight a squeeze. "Isn't this bad enough?" She'd gained at least forty pounds. "I... Oh, my God... Oh, God..." Her breath sailed from her lungs, rushed back in, sailed out again. She was hyperventilating.

"Jackie—" Fez rubbed her back, "I am so sorry..."

If he'd said anything else, she couldn't hear it. She peered up at the vaulted ceiling. It seemed so high, so far away. _Everything_ seemed so far away. Her body felt numb, and thick clouds clogged her head. It was as if she were floating in space with nothing to anchor her—until a voice reached out from the emptiness: _"Man, Jackie, you only notice things if they have to do with you?"_

"Steven?" but she couldn't see him—or anything.

_"Happiness is bullshit. You'll be happier once you quit believing in it."_

"Steven, where are—" It was a memory, from the first time they were in the Nine Kingdoms. She and Donna had been cursed by Gypsies. They'd all been hiding out in the Seven Dwarves' cottage.

Her breathing finally slowed, and the chamber walls came back into focus. The stone was awash in torchlight, orange like her hair. Her _cursed_ hair. But her hair had been cursed before, and they'd found a way to break that curse—

Her attention shot to her left ring finger. "Yes, that's it!" She began to pull off her engagement ring. "That _has_ to be it."

Fez clamped his hands around hers, stopping her. "No," he said, "if you take that ring off, the curse will transfer to Hyde."

"He'll have orange hair?" Her nose wrinkled. Steven would look like Ronald McDonald. _"Eww._ "

"Didn't you hear him, Jackie?" Michael said. His arm was draped over the Traveling mirror. "Your hair is just the beginning. You're gonna lose what's most important to you."

"So if I take off the ring, _Steven_ will become an uggo?"

Fez tightened his hold on her hands. "Not necessarily. What is most important to you may not be what is most important to Hyde. But if we do not learn how to cure this curse, then you or Hyde—or both of you—will probably die."

"No."She shut her eyes. Cold tears had gathered in them. _"No..."_

"That is how these curses usually go," Fez said, and her chest frosted over, as if the icy tears sliding down her throat had coated her ribs. "They progress steadily, ripping your happiness from you piece-by-piece... until you die."

* * *

Night had fallen. The Fourth Kingdom's countryside rolled by in a dark ribbon, but Eric caught only glimpses of it. He was too busy making out with Donna. The luxurious coach Fez had arranged for their honeymoon did not disappoint. The ride was smooth, and sconces provided decent mood lighting. Flowers of all colors blanketed the floor, sweetening the air with fragrance, while violinists on the roof played a variety of tunes, including Eric's self-composed "This Time the Dumbass Will Do Things Right".

The passion of Donna's kisses increased as that particular song began. She must have remembered when she first heard it. He'd been under a powerful romantic spell then, which had made him more of a moron than usual. But they were in no need of a spell now. They had plenty of their own magic.

She deep-kissed him again at the song's second movement. Her mouth was warm and promising more, prickling the skin beneath his tuxedo, and his eyes opened a sliver at the intensity—just in time to spot a flash of orange passing by the coach's window.

"Donna—" He pulled away from her to get a better look outside. "I think we're in the First Kingdom, Cinderella's kingdom."

She cupped the back of his head and drew him back in for another kiss. "What's that now?" she said.

"Pumpkins." He jerked his thumb toward the dark outside. "Giant pumpkins."

She crawled over the plush seat—over his legs—to the window. She stuck her head out of it, and he joined her. Brightly glowing pumpkins lit up the countryside in patches. Garden after garden of pumpkins streaked by. Some of the fruits were normal sized, but most were the size of the Vista Cruiser.

"Pumpkins? In the middle of May?" Donna said.

"They're probably magic."

She moved away from the window, "You know what's also magic?" and dragged him back to the seat with her. "My tongue."

Her fingers glided along his open shirt collar, exciting the hairs along his jawline. He waited until he couldn't wait anymore.

"Yes, yes..." he said and tackled her, and they tumbled onto the coach's flower-covered floor. But neither of them wasted time getting back up. Their arms wrapped around each other, and their mouths met, and they resumed their honeymoon without a thought.

* * *

Jackie wasn't at the Pinciottis', and Hyde called the Burkhart Mansion with no success before trying twenty different numbers from Donna's black address book. No one had driven Jackie—or claimed to. His next recourse was to check out all their "spots," like the reservoir, the Water Tower, and Mt. Hump Park again—specifically, where they'd had their first date on Veteran's Day. He even drove back to their apartment in Kenosha. But she was nowhere, man, swallowed up by the night.

"She has to be _somewhere,_ Steven," Mrs. Forman said.

Hyde was pacing the Formans' living room now. It was after ten o'clock, and the cops had been called. Some help they were, though. "Hasn't been twenty-four hours yet," they said. "If your fiancée doesn't come home by tomorrow afternoon, give us another call." _Oh, yeah? Well, fuck you very much._

Red entered from the kitchen and gave Hyde a beer. "Are you sure Brooke didn't take her?"

"Yeah." The beer can slipped from Hyde's hand and rolled toward the TV. His fingers hadn't closed in time. "Damn it—"

"Don't worry about it, honey," Mrs. Forman said and picked up the beer. "Don't worry about it."

She passed the can to him, but he didn't want to drink. He carried it with him as he paced. He passed the couch, passed the bookcase with the Formans' mementos and picture frames. He turned and passed the couch again, this time on his way to the carpeted staircase. Its terracotta-colored bricks blended together into a mess of blood behind his eyes. Another turn, another few steps, and he was at the bookcase again.

"Steven—" Mrs. Forman touched his wrist, and he stopped dead-still in front of the bookcase. Tacked to the back of the first shelf was a color photograph, depicting Forman and Laurie as kids. Beside it was a black-and-white framed photo of Red's mother, Bernice. She was sneering behind the glass, and the expression seemed directed at him, taunting him.

His hand whipped out and snatched the frame. He hurled it at the staircase, and Mrs. Forman screamed as the frame's glass broke against the bricks.

"Kitty, don't move," Red said. "I'll get the vacuum."

Mrs. Forman gestured to the glass on the rug. "Knowing your mother, that'll give us seven years of bad luck."

Red reached the kitchen's swinging door, "Only applies to mirrors," then disappeared through it.

Hyde stared after him, though he wasn't really looking. "Shit."

"It's okay, Steven," Mrs. Forman said. "Red'll get the vacuum, and he'll—he'll suck all that glass right up. Mother Forman wouldn't have liked that frame anyway... or any frame I put her in, the old bitch." Her hearty laugh followed, and it spurred him to action. He started for the kitchen. "Sweetie," she called after him, "where are you going?"

"You were right, Mrs. Forman. Jackie has to be somewhere." He put his hand on the swinging door, only to have the door push against him. He backed up as Red brought the vacuum into the living room. Then Hyde slipped into the kitchen and raced down to the basement.

In his old room, he zipped open his duffel bag and dumped everything onto his cot. He searched the pile of clothes, toiletries, and various other crap for his favorite jeans, the belt with his pot leaf buckle, and one of his black Led Zeppelin shirts. He changed into them from the monkey suit he wore to Forman's wedding. Then he rolled some underwear into another shirt.

He opened Jackie's pink suitcase next. Beneath her clothes were five pairs of heeled shoes and one pair of flat boots. He took the boots, put his shirt inside the left one and a box of condoms inside the right with extra panties and a blouse for her. He couldn't waste time looking for her birth control, and he wasn't taking any chances.

Lastly, he shrugged on his corduroy jacket. The inner pocket already had a joint stashed away, and he stashed five more inside it. His lighter and lock pick were inside his jeans pocket—"Never leave home without 'em," his uncle Chet taught him, and Hyde never did.

Jackie's boots were under his arm, and he gave his old a room a once-over. Was he forgetting anything useful? His duffel bag and Jackie's suitcase were both disemboweled. Clothing littered the cot, the floor, and a dishrag sat on his bureau.

He picked up the rag carefully. Inside it was that denim-blue, over-sensitizing pebble—what the hell had Kelso called it?—right. _Wolfsbane._ He put the rag-wrapped pebble deep into his jacket pocket.

A few minutes later, he stood in the driveway by the Camino. One of Forman's backpacks was slung over his shoulder. It contained Jackie's boots and everything they had inside them.

"At least tell us where the hell you think she is," Red said. He and Mrs. Forman had followed him outside, pummeling him with questions.

The Camino's sideview mirrors reflected the trees from across the street. Seemed like a deep forest inside those reflections, a thousand-miles wide. Hyde threw the backpack onto the car's passenger seat. "Wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Red crossed his arms. "Try me."

"Let's just say it's kinda like _Star Wars—"_

Red's arms dropped to his sides. "Never mind."

"Steven—" Mrs. Forman hugged herself to Red's back, "be careful, honey, okay?"

"Yeah."

Hyde got into the Camino and shut the driver-side door. The Formans moved toward the porch as he revved up the engine. Then he backed the car out of the driveway and floored it down the road.

His first stop was Grooves, which was closed for the night. He parked the Camino in his space behind the store and gave the car a wistful glance. It could be a while before he'd see his baby again.

He unlocked Grooves' door and stepped inside. Without turning on the lights, he went to his office. Here, though, he switched on the desk lamp, sat down, and wrote the assistant manager a letter:

_Jack,_

_Store's yours, man. So's my car. Take care of 'em. I should be back  
in a day or so. Could be a week... It better not be a damn month._

— _Hyde._

Outside, the sky was dark but not overwhelmingly so. Stars, a waxing gibbous moon, and lampposts lit his way across Point Place. He made it back to Mt. Hump Park in less than a half-hour. The grass smelled fresh from yesterday's rain, and he passed the bench he and Jackie had sat on when they'd first returned from _that place._ Crickets had been chirping then as they did now. They'd brought him some tranquility that night, one with nature, that kinda crap. Not this night. Tonight, the sound grated against his ears.

The trees were blackened swords rising against the indigo sky. He left the lit path for them, using the stars to keep from getting too lost—a trick Jackie had taught him a few years back. That damned mirror was somewhere in these woods, and his gut told him she was somewhere on the other side of it. Why she'd gone over there, though, he had no clue.

A few minutes of searching, and he spotted a dark oval rippling between the trees. _Bingo._ He adjusted the straps of Forman's backpack. Breathed a shuddering breath before running forward—no peace, man, not for him—and jumped into the mirror.


	11. Intangible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 11  
 **INTANGIBLE**  


Glass sculptures of slippers gleamed in the moonlight as Eric and Donna's coach pulled up to Cinderella's castle. The sculptures lined the bridle path, and the castle itself stretched deep into the sky with many more towers and turrets than Fez's had. Not that Eric spent too much time studying any of it. His concentration was too occupied with Donna, whose hands and lips hadn't left him since they passed the pumpkin patches.

The coach followed the bridle path around to one of the towers then stopped. A breeze hit Eric's back—someone had opened the door—but Donna's fingers were inching beneath his shirt, warming him up. He couldn't tear himself away from her. Then, behind him, someone cleared his throat and said, "Mr. and Mrs. Forman, welcome to the First Kingdom—"

"That's Mrs. Pinciotti-Forman," Donna said. She'd stopped kissing him long enough to speak. Even in this fairy-tale world, she refused to lose her independence—and Eric was glad. Her strength, wherever they ended up together, would never be a bad thing.

"Ah, yes," the voice said behind him. "Mr. Forman, Mrs. Pinciotti-Forman, I'm Muris. If you'd just come this way..."

Eric forced himself to the open door. An older attendant, wearing a pale blue suit with silver brocade, was waiting with several other attendants behind him.

"All right, time to get this honeymoon 'officially' started," Eric said. He exited the coach and offered Donna's his hand. She took it, and they stepped onto a patch of grass as the attendants grabbed their luggage from the coach.

"Cinderella would like to extend her warmest welcome to you," Muris said, and he led them toward the soaring tower. It looked as if it were made of frosted glass and emitted a faint glow. "This is the castle's Honeymoon Tower. And you're fortunate. You've arrived just in time for the he annual Glass Slipper Ball. It..."

Donna snuck her fingers beneath the waistband of Eric's slacks and palmed his butt. He spun around, gathering her in his arms, and she giggled as he kissed her.

Muris cleared his throat again, and both Eric and Donna regained as much of their composure as they could. Two guards were standing in front of the tower's gate, made from marble and decorated with plump cherubs. It was tacky—like Kissing Town in Fez's Kingdom—and Eric hoped no magic spell inside would make him do something stupid.

The guards stepped aside and opened the gate. Muris ushered Eric and Donna forward while the other attendants followed with their luggage. The tower's vestibule was well-lit with sconces, casting direct light on the frosted glass walls. Cinderella's story was cut into them, sculpted in mid-relief, from her humble beginnings in rags to uniting the Nine Kingdoms. She and the other Great Ladies, like Snow White and Red Riding Hood, had fought hard for that unity.

"Wow," Donna said, running her hand over the glass wall.

Muris smiled at her. "We get that reaction a lot." His pale blue eyes matched his suit, and they sparkled with a youth his face had lost decades ago. "Let me get you checked in."

He brought them to a marble concierge desk. The concierge was a young, pumpkin-cheeked woman whose flaxen hair shone brightly in the sconce light. "Welcome to the Honeymoon Tower," she said. "Names?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Pinciotti-Forman," Muris said for them.

"Excuse me..." Eric jerked his thumb at Donna, "only she's Pinciotti-Forman."

The concierge tilted her flaxen head at him. "So you are...?"

"Just Forman."

A thick book sat in front of her, and she opened it to a page with giant "F" written at the top. Her finger traced down a list of names.

"I see an Eric Forman, but no 'Just Forman'."

"That's him," Donna said. "He's Eric. I'm Donna."

"Oh." The concierge pulled out a white quill and dipped it into a bottle of ink. "Why didn't you say so in the first place, Red? Would've made things a lot easier."

Donna crossed her arms. "Because Muris introduced us as 'Pinciotti—'"

The concierge burst out in laughter, and she wrote a number next to Eric's name. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. A little First-Kingdom humor."

"Immature humor," Muris said.

"Aw, come on, Murry. I was just playin'."

Muris tutted and turned to Eric and Donna. "You'll have to forgive Petal. The night shift tends to make her giddy."

Petal nodded. "It's all the love." She pointed to the stairs. "Do you know how many couples are here?"

"Yeah..." Eric took Donna's hand. The vestibule smelled strongly of roses even though none were to be seen. "We've had a really long day, so we'd like to go our room now."

"You're on the third floor," Petal said. "The Sunrise Suite."

Muris gestured to the other attendants, and they rushed up the spiral staircase with Eric and Donna's luggage.

Eric and Donna moved to follow, but Petal rang a crystal bell at them before they made it two steps. "Please fill out your guest card once you get upstairs," she said. "It will let us know your food preferences, whether you want the _First Kingdom Gazette_ in the mornings, details like that. Just slide the card beneath your door. Our mice will handle the rest."

"Mice?" Donna said. She glanced at Eric, and he thought of the German-speaking mice who'd helped them escape Fez's dungeon.

"'Handle is _Klinke,'_ " Eric said, quoting one of the mice, and the confusion on Donna's face dissolved. He addressed Petal next. "Speaking of food, would it be possible to have a freshly-killed lamb sent up to the—"

Donna yanked him by the collar toward the staircase. "Come on, Tarzan." Then, over her shoulder to Petal, she added, "Whatever the standard fare is will be fine."

Muris hurried in front of them, leading the way up the stairs. Eric's stomach grumbled, and he cursed his increasing appetite. Now was definitely not the time for it, not with his new wife looking so juicy in her wedding dress. He couldn't wait to tear it off her, even with the sweat hours of travel had soaked into it. Her natural scent had never smelled so alluring.

She stopped him when they reached the second floor landing. "Are you growling?"

"Stomach," he said and patted his belly.

She laughed, and they started for the third floor. "You know, that's interesting..."

"My hunger?"

"No—sorry, switched topics." Her hair had long-ago fallen free from the wedding updo, and she twirled a strand around her finger—an uncharacteristically girly behavior for her, but he found it endearing."We don't have any cutesy nicknames for each other."

"Oh, sure we do," he said. "You've called me 'Twizzler—'"

"Doesn't count."

"And your horny nerd-boy."

"Eric, those are one-time things. We don't have any lasting names." She stopped twirling her hair. "I mean, even Jackie and Hyde have nicknames for each other."

They reached the third floor, and his leg muscles felt no fatigue, no burn. His heart was beating a little faster, but that had more to do with Donna than anything else. Three spectacularly painted doors were evenly spaced along the wall. The first depicted a sunrise in vibrant oranges, pinks, and blues.

"The Sunrise Suite," Muris said.

He opened the door. Inside were the other attendants. They'd placed the luggage on luggage racks, and one-by-one, they left the room. Upon leaving, the last attendant handed Eric a pair glass keys.

"For the door," Muris said. "One for each of you, of course."

Donna smiled as she took her key. "I bet you women and men are more equal here than they are back home. We need more women in power."

"Yes, my buttercup," Eric said.

"Don't call me that."

"Before I leave," Muris swept his arm in the air, indicating the whole space of the room. "I'd like to tell you a bit about your suite. First—and, perhaps, of greatest significance to a newly-married couple—you have the plushest bed made in all the Nine Kingdoms."

Eric and Donna looked at the bed. Its comforter was thick and fluffy, and all kinds of pillows rested against the headboard.

Muris went to the door and knocked on the bottom half of it. The wood disappeared, revealing the hallway beyond. "Meals can be trollied into the room via this glamored panel."

"Glamor?" Eric said.

"A magic spell," Donna said.

"Yes, exactly." Muris moved away from the door, and its bottom half reappeared. "Attendants can't see or hear anything through it, but they can bring you what you need. You have complete privacy here. See the window?"

A floor-to-ceiling window displayed a fantastic view of the castle's star-lit grounds. Eric stepped forward and pressed his palms against the glass. It was cold to the touch, but the room itself was a very comfortable temperature. Probably glamored, too.

"From the outside," Muris said, "the window resembles nothing more than the tower wall."

"Good." Eric removed his hands from the glass. His palm-marks smeared it, but they faded quickly. "Because what my lady and I do in here is nobody's business."

"The privy," Muris continued as if Eric hadn't spoken, "is through that door there, and your guest card awaits you on the desk." He gestured to the wall opposite the bed. A marble desk, carved with cherubs and hearts, took up a good chunk of space.

"The candles were crafted by Royal Dwarves," Muris said. "They'll never burn out." He went to a pair of red-jeweled sconces. "But if you simply say to them, 'Rubies, out—'" the candles within the sconces darkened, "the flames will quench. There are eight pairs of sconces in this room: rubies, sapphires, emeralds, diamonds, amethyst, topaz, silver, and gold. And two pair in the privy: ebony and ivory. If you desire all of them out, just say—"

"All candles, out," Donna said, and the room went dark. "All candles, on." Nothing. "All candles, light." The candles all rekindled.

Muris clapped his hands. "Bravo, young lady. You catch on quickly."

"'Bravo,' indeed," Eric said and gazed at Donna. She was sitting on the bed now, examining the pillows. "That's my clever dove."

She returned his gaze with a glower. "Don't call me that."

"Those are the essentials," Muris said. "If you have any questions..."

"Not right now." Donna put an overstuffed pillow on her lap, and she fiddled with its lacy fringe. "Thank you, Muris."

"Yes, thank you," Eric said, and Muris bowed before leaving. The door clicked shut, and Eric locked it. Then he said, "Emeralds, out."

The candles by the desk went dark, and the effect stole his breath away. Magic really was everywhere. It still freaked him out, and part of him felt like he was in a dream. He hadn't felt fully awake for some time—long before that horrible night when he'd killed Laurie. Even before going to Africa _._ No, it had started when he ran out on Donna during their first wedding .

"Honey," she said, and he looked at her. The pillow was no longer in her lap. "Damn. Even when I call you 'honey,' it sounds awkward."

"Maybe we're just not nickname people, Donna."

"The concierge called me 'Red'. I kind of like it—without the 'Big' in front of it."

"Um... hello?" His eyebrows raised, but she should've known the problem instantly. "My dad?"

"Oh, shit." She covered her mouth. "Eric..."

She reached for him, and he sat next to her on the bed. His body relaxed upon touching the comforter. It made his muscles feel like melted butter. _Man,_ how much tension had he been carrying?

"I can't call you 'Mrs. Forman,' either," he said. "Not yet, anyway. Thinking about either of my parents when I'm with you, while I'm doing naughty things to you... well, it's just not gonna happen."

"I get it. I get it," she said, laughing. "I'm sorry."

He ran a finger down her silky white bodice, and his hand cupped the curve of her hip. "It's okay, m'lady..."

"Hey, that's kind of like a nickname."

"Yeah, I guess it is." His lips brushed against her neck, "But right now," and pressed a kiss into her soft skin, "I'm happy enough to call you my wife."

She wrapped her arms around his back, and together they fell onto the pillows. He positioned himself on top and inhaled deeply. All traces of roses were gone, replaced by only her.

"You smell delicious," he said.

Her nose wrinkled. "You are so weird. I should probably bathe before we, you know..."

"Not necessary." He nuzzled her cheek before moving to her lips. They were warm and moist and tasted better than any lamb or steak. "You're perfect," he said. "Always have been."

"Hardly." She rubbed his back beneath his dress shirt, and his eyes closed at the gentle contact.

"Perfect for _me,_ then..."

They both grew silent as they gave into feelings deeper than words could express. Didn't matter how many hours, days, or years, he'd never get tired of being with her this way. Everything he wanted, she had. Everything he had, he wanted to give to her—and only her. For the rest of his life.

* * *

The mirror ejected Hyde into a high-vaulted, stone-bricked chamber. Two young guards were standing a few feet away, wearing the white military uniforms of Fez's kingdom. Rapiers dangled at their sides, but neither guard reached for them.

"Welcome, Mr. Hyde," one of the guards said. A giddy smile lit on his face, as bright as his blond hair.

The other guard pulled out a silver pocket watch and checked the time. "Damn it."

"Told you he'd show. Pay up, Weylin."

Weylin stuffed his hand into his pants pocket and pulled out a few gold Fezes. "Take 'em." He shoved the coins at the blond guard. Then he walked across the chamber to a braced door. He opened it a crack and shouted, "Captain, he's here!"

Kelso strutted into the chamber. He also had on the white garb of the Fourth Kingdom Guard—and an expression too flippant for Hyde's mood. "Hey, Hyde. Took you long enough. I was about to—"

Hyde lunged and grabbed Kelso by the collar. "Where is she?"

Before Kelso had a chance to answer, two sharp, metal points pressed against Hyde's cheeks—the rapiers of the young guards.

"Step back, Mr. Hyde." The blond guard was no longer smiling, but Hyde didn't release Kelso's collar.

"Jackie," Hyde said, "she's here, isn't she?"

"We said, 'Step back'!" The edge of Weylin's sword caught Hyde's shades and flung them across the chamber. They landed on the flagstone floor with a clatter.

"Weylin, Bucardo, stand down!" Kelso said.

"But he wants to assault you," Bucardo said.

"Yeah," Kelso gestured to Hyde then himself, "that's kind of our thing."

The guards lowered their rapiers but didn't sheathe them. Bucardo stuck a hand into his pocket and fumbled with his newly-won coins, and Weylin watched as Hyde's grip tightened on Kelso's collar.

"She's here," Kelso said. _"Man,_ is she here..."

Hyde shut his eyes as blood thumped in his ears, sending a mixture of anger and relief through his system.

"But I can't take you to her."

Hyde's eyes opened. "You what?"

"She swore me to secrecy. I owe her about a jillion favors, seein' how I cheated on her a jillion times. Yeah, I'm doing the whole honor-thing—"

"Just take me to fuckin' Fez—" The words were a growl, but Hyde's demeanor softened as torchlight glanced off the guards' rapiers. They'd raised them again. "To _King_ Fez, okay? Come on, man..."

Kelso nodded and patted Hyde's backpack. "I can do that." Then he addressed the guards. "And you two, quit threatening him. He helped saved the Nine Kingdoms from Lau—the Evil Queen—and he's one of King Fez's and my best friends. Don't forget it."

"Yes, sir," Bucardo said and sheathed his sword.

Weylin sheathed his sword, too. "Yes, sir," He picked up Hyde's shades from the floor and returned them.

Kelso led Hyde from the chamber, and Hyde clenched his jaw as they walked down a purple-carpeted hallway. This castle was the last place he wanted to be. He'd spent too much time here, cozying up to Laurie so he could sabotage her plans. He remembered the stone staircase Kelso now brought him down, the tower they were in—hell, the castle's whole floor plan was scored into his brain. He'd had to memorize it to protect his friends... and Jackie.

A wide hall stretched out two floors down. It led to the keep of the castle where many doors lined the walls. They reached one painted a deep blue, decorated with a sun in gold leaf. A huge-as-hell state room was on the other side of it. Hyde knew this because Laurie had conspired with him there, revealing how she planned to murder every royal person in the Nine Kingdoms.

Several older guards saluted Kelso and stepped aside. He knocked on the door before opening it. The state room was big, all right, and it looked different than before. Only a few of the stodgy chairs remained. They were carved with heraldic symbols, but they no longer surrounded a hard-backed settee. A soft-cushioned couch had taken its place. Some of the classical paintings still hung on the walls, but so did tapestries depicting KISS and _Charlie's Angels_ and other cultural icons from home.

Overall, the room's new look was an improvement, but Hyde still hated being here. Beyond the couch was a tapestry woven with images of candy. Below this was a desk, and Fez sat behind it, fingers sliding absently over figures carved into the wood. "Hyde, my friend, welcome to my castle—"

"Can it, Fez," Hyde said. He approached the desk slowly—didn't want to spook the guards—but anxiety skittered over his heart like roaches. "What's going on with Jackie? Why'd she come here?"

Fez stood from the desk. "Well, Jackie's undergone a a change..."

"Would you shut the hell up and bring me to her?"

"Ai..." Fez shared a conspiratorial glance with Kelso, and anger stomped on Hyde's anxiety, leaving boot-shaped depressions in its wake. Fez must have noticed—maybe the loud exhale through Hyde's nose clued him in—because he said, "All right, yes."

Several minutes later, Hyde, Kelso, and Fez arrived at the royal suites. Marble statues and paintings glutted the hallway. The doors were all painted the same deep blue, and Hyde's breath quickened. A silver trolley sat outside one of the rooms. Cloches covered what had to be food, and Fez lifted one. A still-hot, uneaten pasta dish was beneath it.

Fez tsked. "She really should eat."

Hyde barely heard him. He was too busy jostling the door knob. "She locked the damn door."

"Use this." Fez gave him a silver key, and Hyde slammed his fist into Fez's shoulder. "Ai! What was that for?"

Hyde pointed to Fez, Kelso, and himself in turn. "Later, the three of us are gonna have a serious conversation about kidnapping."

An insulted squeak escaped Kelso's throat. "We didn't kidna—"

Hyde unlocked the door before Kelso finished talking, rushed inside the room, and slammed the door shut.

It was the dead of night. No candles were lit, and if the room had any windows, they were shuttered or thick curtains covered them. Hyde was effectively blind, and he took off his shades. The scent of lilac hit him first, followed by a rustling noise—like a person twisting in sheets.

"Jackie?" he said into the dark.

"Steven?" Her voice sounded tight and moist, as if she'd been crying. But it was _her_ voice, man. She was here, and that was all he needed to relax.

He moved toward what he thought was her direction, and something hard banged into his shin. A table? A bed? "Jackie, I can't see shit."

"Good!"

He sucked in a deep, steadying breath. Whatever the hell was wrong with her, they'd deal with it together. No other option, man. He pulled his lighter from his jeans and ignited it, casting a small but bright light. It revealed nothing but his hand, so he brought it down slowly. A string of some kind hovered in the air. He brought the lighter down lower... It wasn't a string. It was a wick attached to a tapered candle. _Perfect._

He lit the candle, and the flame revealed two more candles. He lit them, too. They were all in a candelabra, and now he could see the table he'd banged into.

The candelabra went with him as he searched the room. He moved close to a wall. The light shone over paintings, floor vases with lilacs, and then something useful: a torchiere. He kindled its three candles, and the area in front of it brightened significantly, enough for him to make out a second torchiere.

In minutes, six torchieres were lit. The windows were indeed shuttered, and below one was a bed. Wrapped in the mattress's thick comforter was a human-sized lump— _Jackie._ He couldn't see any part of her, but she was definitely in returned the candelabra to the table and approached the bed, stopping short of leaning down on it.

"Jackie—"

"Leave! That's an _order,_ Steven."

"Yeah, since when do I take orders?"

"I don't want you to see me."

"If you don't quit hiding, I'm gonna rip that cocoon off you."

The comforter rustled, "F—fine," and part of it dropped from the lump. The back of her head was visible now, and the candlelight illuminated her hair. It was orange again. The dye must have washed away.

Hyde shrugged off his backpack and put his knee on the bed. He reached forward, touched a few of her orange strands. "You came here because of your fucking hair? Lookin' for a magical stylist or someth—"

"No!" She threw off the comforter and turned around.

His mouth opened dully. "Hell... o."

She was at least forty pounds heavier. Her face had become round as a plump tomato. The white nightgown she wore hid none of the rolling hills that now made up her small body.

"Look at me!" Her eyes were a mess of tears, and she grabbed a portion of her stomach.

"I'm lookin'..."

"I'm fat!"

"Uh..."

" I have a—a—a tummy!" She shook it for emphasis then held up her arm. The upper part of it dangled below the elbow. "I jiggle, Steven. _Jiggle!"_

But only the pain on her face was evident to him now. He moved to cradle her cheeks, but she slapped him away.

"You can't touch me. Not like _this."_

"How did—how did it..." his throat was tightening, "how did it happen?" Her transformation was too quick, man. A few hours ago, she was at least thirty pounds lighter. Freakin' magic had to be involved. Laurie had turned Fez into a dog with magic. Kelso had turned Fez into a _gold_ dog with magic. "What happened, Grasshopper?"

She showed him her left hand. He moved to hold it, but she snapped it back. "Stupid Fez gave us a cursed ring! We're cursed!"

An icicle, sharp and cold, rammed into the middle of his forehead. It froze his thoughts, and an icy numbness replaced all emotion. Inside his chest was a jagged, gaping hole where wind howled through until Jackie's fingers grazed his lips.

"Baby..." she said.

Warmth spread from her touch into the rest of him, restoring emotion and thought. A bitter laugh escaped him. "Of course. Of-fucking-course..."

"As long as I wear it," her left hand was a shaking fist, and her engagement ring glinted in the candlelight, "I'm gonna be an uggo—and Fez says this is only the beginning."

"'As long as you wear...'" He stared at her. The solution was simple. "So take off the ring."

"I can't."

"Jackie, I'm gonna marry you whether you're wearing a ring or not." He inched closer to her on the bed, and she shrank back from him. "We're like a bomb, baby. Trigger's already been pressed. The explosion's inevitable. In our case, so's the wedding. So chill out, and give me the damn ring."

"Bomb's can be defused, Steven, but that's not why I'm keeping the ring on. If I take it off, the curse might go onto you. You could become all—all Eric-y."

He shrugged. "My hair's gonna go straight, and I'll get all skinny like Forman? I can handle that."

"No. Fez said curses affect different people differently. You could become nerdy or something."

"Oh." He cupped his chin and pretended to be in deep-thought. "It's a risk I'm willing to take." Then he sprang forward and grasped her left wrist. She shouted in surprise but reacted quickly. She fell onto her back. Her foot shot out and connected with his neck, and the force of her kick crushed his windpipe. Shock then pain overtook him, making him let her go. _Fucking cheerleader..._

"Oh, God—Steven!"

He hunched over, eyes squeezing shut as coughs wracked his body. He'd just have to wait it out. Worst part of coughing was the repeated impact against his ribs. But the intensity decreased much faster than he expected. Jackie's gentle hands were rubbing his back, and she was whispering, "I love you. I'm so sorry. Trying to protect you..."

His breathing smoothed out. He straightened up and opened his eyes a crack. Tears clung to his lashes from the coughing. He wiped them on his shoulder and opened his eyes wider. Jackie continued to rub his back, and the concern on her face, her compassion, captured his attention. No matter how round her cheeks got, or how thick her waist grew, it was still _her_ in there. Her pout, her cries—her love for him.

He wrapped his arms around her before she had a chance to shy away. His chin glided over the crook of her shoulder, and his lips kissed her neck, just behind her earlobe.

She didn't fight him. Her own arms were still on his back, and she tightened her grip. The hug felt a little strange. Her plumper body didn't fit quite as well with him as it did before, but she was warm, and she held him the way she always did, where her heart pressed against his chest.

"Give me—" a straggling cough hiccuped from him, "give me the ring."

"No, Steven. You've already seen the horrific things the ring's done to me. Why would you want to—"

"I'm used to being cursed." He grinned smugly. "I'm in love with you. How much worse can it get?"

She slapped his back, "Jerk," but didn't let go.

He stroked her hair, taking comfort in their closeness. Finally, her attitude toward him seemed to have stabilized. They hadn't been this connected in months. "That 'diamond strand,' between us," he said, "you feelin' it again?"

"Yes. Thank God—yes."

"Good." He swept his palm down her left arm, raising gooseflesh. His fingers closed around her wrist—

She ripped herself free. "Steven!" Her body twisted in his arms, and she shoved herself away from him. "As your fiancée, I am ordering you to leave the ring alone. We'll have to figure out how to break this curse before anything more happens."

She moved off the bed. Her nightgown fluttered as she paced the room in small circles. Her calves were thicker, and her thighs touched as she walked, but he'd spread 'em apart all the same. The candlelight illuminated her falling tears. They glowed eerily in streaks, but her expression interested him more: the determined set to her jaw, her thoughtful eyes. Man,she was beautiful. Redhead or brunette, fat or thin—his dick wanted to be in only one place.

She stopped pacing, as if he could feel him watching her, and frowned. "Puddin', do you really think being in love with me is a curse?"

"Yup," he stood from the bed and brushed her cheek with his thumb, "but I like it."

* * *

Steven had wheeled the trolley of food into the room, but Jackie didn't want to eat. She sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at her no-longer delicate ankles, while he set the small table. _Him and his damn lighter._ He'd had to kindle all the candles. The torchieres and candelabra created thirteen bright spots in the otherwise dark room. She would have preferred it pitch-black..

Metal repeatedly hit metal from the table. Steven was clanking a fork on one of the cloches. "Dinner," he said.

"It has to be three in the morning."

He checked his watch by the candelabra. "Nope. Not even two yet." Then he gestured to a plate of what looked like pasta primavera. "Food's still warm."

"Steven..." A delicious scent invaded her nose, garlic and olive oil—and totally unfair. Fez must have told his night chef what to make. Why did her friends know her so well? She grasped her stomach. "I'm too fat to eat."

"Come on," he pulled out a chair from the table, "remember what I told you a long time ago, about what our future would look like? Us living in the Formans' basement? I've got gray hair and a beer gut, and you—"

"Yeah, I remember. You said I'd be huge, eating away my disappointment at your lack of ambition." She moved to the table but didn't sit. "Are you saying part of that future's come true?"

He grinned and gestured as if presenting something. "We're already living the dream, baby!"

_"Ugh!"_ She walked behind him and smacked the back of his neck. "Was that supposed to make me feel better?" Then she sat down and dug into the pasta.

"No..." he rubbed the skin where she'd hit him, "it was supposed to make you laugh." He was beside her, eating from a plate of exquisite-smelling meat. The scent was spicy and aromatic, and it made her curious.

"Can I have a piece?" she said.

"Sure." He stabbed a morsel with his fork and held it out to her.

She grabbed it with her teeth. A deep, beefy flavor saturated her tongue, and her eyes drifted closed as she chewed. "Oh, my God..."

"The pork's pretty good here, huh? That's one thing I can't complain about this place; the food doesn't suck."

"That's not pork." She stole another piece with her fingers, "That's wild boar," and stuck it into her mouth. "I haven't had this in— _God,_ that tastes good—in forever. Not since Daddy had money and brought me and my mom out to expensive restaurants."

She took a third piece of the boar, and he picked up his plate and traded it with hers. But he didn't like pasta primavera. It had too many vegetables for him. The one time he ordered it, they were on a date, and he'd eaten around anything green.

"What are you doing?" she said.

"Consider that an apology for me being an asshole."

"You're not an asshole." She switched their plates again but also scooped a third of the boar onto her pasta. "You can be insensitive jerk sometimes, though." She wound a good portion of her pasta onto her fork and plopped it onto his plate. "'If it's any consolation, Pam Macy would give it up to anybody.' What the hell was that?"

"You tell me," he said, "'cause I got no idea what you're talking about."

"Almost five years ago at my family's ski cabin. I was crying my heart out over Michael—"

He bit into a piece of meat. "Right..."

"Why were you so jerky?"

"Jackie, you're really bringing this crap up? Don't you think we've got bigger—"

She widened her eyes at him, pleading. She needed the distraction desperately. Their past was safe. Nothing could change it. Their future, their _destiny_ was in jeopardy.

He sighed. He must have seen her fear and and gave in. "I wanted Donna, and you were in the way. Nothing more to it."

"After I ran off, is that when you kissed her?"

"Yup."

"Donna said you forced it on her."

"Like I said," he spun pasta onto his fork, "I can be an asshole."

"Not with me," she said.

His fork clattered to his plate. "Jackie, fuck, _man..._ did the curse put rose-colored glasses on you or something?"

"No."

They ate in silence after that, but in her mind she went through every hurtful thing he'd done to her, as if his last question was challenge. Cruel words, sleeping with the nurse, acting like he was attracted to her mother, letting her go to Chicago without a fight, treating her as if she didn't exist...

Their history used to enshroud them like a starless night, but when she looked at him now, eating by the candelabra light, all she saw was bright blue sky.

"Baby," her hand glided over his denim-clad knee, "you keep growing for me."

His gaze shifted from his plate to her face. The expression in his eyes sent a warm shiver through her body. She expected to see disgust whenever he looked at her now, but she found nothing of the kind. He cradled her cheek, and she leaned into his hand in spite of herself.

"Steven, how—how can you want to touch me?"

"Don't talk, okay?"

He kissed her lips— gently, at first—then moved his mouth deep into hers. She moaned in surprise, her fingers grasping the curls at his neck. His kiss felt so good, and shock waves from it traveled into her belly and lower. But pleasure fought with self-revulsion, and she clutched at his back with her other hand, needing to feel his solidity and strength, to disappear into his body.

His muscles flexed subtly beneath her left palm, and his fingertips grazed over the surface of her knuckles—

She gasped and pulled away from him. Her chair bumped into the table, knocking the candelabra onto her plate. Nothing caught on fire, thankfully, and Steven righted the candelabra before blowing out the flames.

"You don't want me," she said, backing off toward the bed. "You just want the ring."

"I want both."

She made a fist with her left hand, "You can only have one," and walked backward until she butted up against something—Steven's stupid backpack. She kicked it away, but that gave his arm enough time to hook her hips. She tried to ignore the kisses he pressed into her shoulder and up her neck, how his hands skimmed beneath her nightgown toward her breasts, how his touch made her shudder with need instead of anger.

"I won't take the ring," he whispered, "not tonight." His thumb stroked the peak of her breast, softly and in circles, and she gratefully gave into the sensation of him.

The torchiere candles were significantly shorter by the time she began to fall asleep. They'd made love, but she was clothed in the nightgown again and in Steven's arms. She couldn't stand to be naked against him without the distraction of sex. When he was inside her, he'd treated her body with his usual care, and for a brief moment she'd felt beautiful. But now, she was only fat and cursed, and the thought squeezed a pathetic whimper from her.

"Hey," Steven said groggily, "you okay?"

She buried her face in his chest as hot tears spilled from her. "Don't give up on me, Puddin'. _Please."_

He cupped the back of her head and kissed the wet corner of her eye. "I quit giving up on you a long time ago."


	12. Before Midnight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. "Dreaming from the Waist" (C) 1996 Universal Music Enterprises, a Division of UMG Recordings, Inc.

CHAPTER 12  
 **BEFORE MIDNIGHT**  


Thin rays of of light eked through the shuttered windows, enough to let Hyde know Jackie still slept. The sun fell across her face and sheet-swathed body. She looked no differently than last night, full cheeks and orange hair. Even her eyelashes had become orange, but her hands were still small, the fingers slender—and the left one lay undefended on top of the bed's thick comforter.

He'd kept his word last night and hadn't tried to take the ring off, but it was morning now. He leaned over her sleeping body and clutched the ring's gold band. It slid past her first knuckle, edged toward the second. Maybe the curse had done its damage, forcing her body to become what she thought was imperfect. Not that he believed in "perfect" _anything,_ but she did—no matter how hard he worked to convince her otherwise.

The ring made it to the top of her cuticle, and Jackie heaved a gasp. She closed her left hand tight, trapping his thumb in a vise-like grip. "Let go, Steven—LET GO!"

The words carried the sharp blade of terror, and when his untrapped fingers tugged at the ring, her right elbow smacked him in the jaw.

"Please!" she said and hit him again when he refused to stop pulling. The pain of her strikes would be short-lived. The consequences if she kept on that ring, however...

He pushed the ring to her fingernail, but she twisted her body and shoved her left hand beneath her chest. His left arm rolled with her, and her weight crushed his fingers. He had no other recourse but to withdraw.

"Bastard!" she cried into her pillows.

"Yeah... call me whatever the hell you want."

Hyde lay on his back and stared at the smooth, white wall rising from behind the bed. A shuttered window sat several feet above him. He wanted to shutter his heart the same way, but he couldn't anymore... not with Jackie crying next to him, not with her trying to protect him.

He stood up on the mattress as Jackie's body shook by his feet. "Quit being stubborn, " he said over her sobs and yanked open the window shutters. Sunlight poured into the room, washing everything in gold. "Better if I'm the one dealing with this crap than you. Like I said, I'm used to it."

" _You're_ the one being stubborn." She pushed herself up and knelt beside his legs, and she wiped her last tears away. The ring sat firmly at the base of her finger again, and the sky-blue diamond glittered in the morning light.

"I'm not stubborn," he said. "I'm determined. And I'm gonna get that ring off, one way or the other."

Jackie stepped off the bed and crossed her arms over her now-ample chest. The new curves of her body weren't completely unwelcome. Hyde had enjoyed them last night, but her fleshy stomach and thicker thighs couldn't have felt comfortable to her. Gaining forty extra pounds of weight in less than a day and having to lug it around—

He jumped off the bed and landed on the carpeted floor. Her left wrist was sandwiched between her breast and right arm, but he rounded the bed frame and cornered her. She had no place to go, and his fingers clamped on her wrist. He wrenched it toward him. Her eyes widened, but her mind was too sharp, her reflexes too quick even in her heavier state. Her eyes narrowed, as if her surprise had given way to anger. Then she brought her body close to him and smashed his stones with her knee.

Involuntarily, he released her and fell onto the bed, curling up like a pill bug.

"I'm determined, too, Steven."

He bit down a groan and cupped his groin protectively. Boxers made for ineffective armor. _Fuck!_ He hated when she did that. Why couldn't she stick to kicking his damn shin?

"A magic axe broke the Gypsies' curse on Donna's and my hair," she said and sat on the bed. She began to rub his back. "Maybe a magic jeweler can break this one. It can't take too long to find someone, not with all of Fez's resources. He's a king, after all." She leaned over Hyde's face and kissed his jaw. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he said. The ache in his stones had eased considerably, down to a dull throb. He sat up a few moments later, grabbed his shirt and jeans off the floor. He dressed in them just in time for a knock at the door.

Jackie took in a sharp breath and cowered behind him. "I don't want anyone to see me—"

But the door opened, revealing Fez and Kelso's faces. They entered the room, pushing a silver serving trolly with them. They wore what had to be their every-day Fourth Kingdom uniforms, white military-style suits. The outfits were almost identical except that Fez's had gold trim and a gold sash, and Kelso's had rank badges pinned to it.

Fez swept his arm across the light-filled room. "Good morning, my friends. How do you like my redecorating?"

"Shut the door, shut the door!" Jackie shouted and pressed her forehead into Hyde's back.

"Oh, man..." Kelso closed the door, "didja get even fatter?"

A pillow flew out and missed Kelso's face by a mile.

"No, you idiot!" Jackie quit hiding and stomped her way to Kelso. Hyde didn't stop her, but he didn't have to. Kelso grabbed her hand as it whipped toward his cheek. "Oh!"

Kelso laughed and peered over at Hyde, clearly laughing at him and not Jackie. "If you'd known this would happen," Kelso said, "bet you never would've snaked her from me."

"You asshole!" She attempted to knee him in the groin, but he turned so all her knee struck was his thigh. "Quit moving so I can hurt you!"

Hyde hooked his thumbs into belt loops, but he was seconds away from pounding Kelso himself. All the combat training Kelso had undergone at the police academy—and the experience he'd gotten as Fez's guard captain—had made him nimble. Hyde would have a harder time kicking his ass now. Harder, but not impossible.

"I hope no one has sex with you again!" Jackie said as Kelso let her go. She stomped back toward the bed but stopped at Hyde's backpack. She scooped it up and rifled through its contents.

"So, the room..." Fez said.

"Is fine, man," but Hyde didn't give a crap about how the room was redecorated. Jackie was frantic. She tossed the box of condoms from his backpack, his extra clothes, and dropped the backpack once she found her blouse. A dressing screen stood against the far wall. She went behind it.

Fez pointed to a painting by the bed. It depicted a silver-wrapped Hershey's Kiss. "After one of Kelso's visits to Betsy," he said, "Kelso brought me back a bag of Hershey's Kisses. I commissioned one of my kingdom's greatest artists to paint it." He walked to a shuttered window by the dressing screen. "Yes, I couldn't let my Amedican experiences go to waste." He opened the shutters, and the room grew even brighter. "I'm having some of the kingdom's best chocolatiers recreate my favorite candy from—

"IT DOESN'T FIT!" Jackie screamed, and everyone winced.

"Ai..." Fez rushed to the bedroom door and opened it. "Sarabel, please bring me the rose garments—and hurry!"

Hyde caught a glimpse of a female attendant nodding before Fez shut the door again.

"Steven..." Jackie came out from the screen with the blouse pressed to her front. Her eyes were wet, and her cheeks had grown red. "My blouse—my blouse doesn't fit."

"Of course it doesn't fit," Kelso said. "You're huge!"

Hyde shoved himself off the bed and launched himself at Kelso. He rammed his fist into Kelso's shoulder before Kelso could defend himself. "Enough with that shit," Hyde said. "We get it. She's cursed. You don't have to keep throwing it in her face."

"No, you are both cursed," Fez said.

"Whatever. Just cut it the hell out."

"Fine!" Kelso covered his shoulder and nudged the serving trolly with his hip. Two cloches clattered on top if it. "Here's my peace offering."

Fez yanked off the cloche covers. Underneath were thick pancakes and sausage, omelets with hash browns. On the trolley's lower shelf were glasses of what looked like orange juice and pitchers of syrup. "Breakfast is served."

Jackie remained by the dressing screen. "I don't want any damn food."

"But now's the perfect time to eat," Kelso said. "You're already fat, and—OW!"

Hyde had frogged him again. "What did I tell you?"

A knock at the door made Fez re-cover the cloches and Jackie retreat behind the screen. He let Sarabel in, whose arms were piled high with clothes.

"Will this be enough, Your Majesty?"

"I think so, yes. Thank you, Sarabel." Fez gathered the clothing from her and dumped it on the bed.

Jackie re-emerged only once Sarabel had left and the door was closed. Fez was sorting through the clothes. They were all richly colored reds and purples, pinks and corals. Jackie seemed curious, and she touched a burgundy dress. "These are beautiful..."

"They were my grandmother's," Fez said.

Her face brightened. "Snow White's?"

"Yes." He held a sizable lavender blouse under his chin. "She would have been honored to have you wear them."

"Th—thank you." She took the blouse from him, and he gave her the matching skirt. "What about shoes?" she said.

Hyde pulled her boots from the backpack. She was shaking, and her breathing was rough. But when he gave her the boots, she smiled and squeezed his hand. He wanted her to fight, for her patented egotism to kick in and take over. Her arrogance could be grating, but seeing his chick insecure like this was far worse.

She withdrew to the bathroom to dress. He focused on the door, as if his eyes could drill through it, until someone tapped him on the arm—Fez.

"I'm sure we will find a way to break this curse and bring sexy Jackie back," Fez whispered.

"What if we don't, man?"

"There are always ways. You can break Jackie's heart... break her love. The curse must be woven with it—and yours—like a Snickers bar. It's the caramel filling between the chocolate and nougat."

Hyde shook his head. "Well, that's out. I've screwed her over too many times—"

"Just lie," Kelso said. "Tell her you've been cheating on her. I used to do it all the time—the lying and the cheating. But I never lied about cheating on her... I mean about _not_ cheating on her. I mean—damn it! Fez, what do I mean?"

"You never told her you cheated when you didn't," Fez said.

"Exactly! Once you crush her heart, the curse'll be broken. Then you can tell her what you were really doing, and she'll forgive you. You know how many times she forgave me? She's good at that. "

"She can see through my bullshit," Hyde said. He picked up a glass of orange juice from the trolly and drank a sip. No one had to tell him how good Jackie was at forgiveness. That girl, as superficial as her interests made her seem, was as deep as it got. "Only way I could make her hate me would be to fuck another chick in front of her."

Fez frowned. "There are other ways of breaking hearts besides being with another woman."

"Yeah," Kelso said. "You could always destroy her clothes."

"No—" Fez thrust a finger in the air, "start _wearing_ her clothes."

"Or you could slap her around a little—"

Hyde rammed his fist into Kelso's arm yet again. _Freakin' dickhead._

"Too. Hard," Kelso said, rubbing his shoulder. "I'm just saying, the curse could end up killing her, so getting a little roughed up is—"

Hyde put down the orange juice and lunged at him, but Fez stepped between them first. "Kelso, please stop talking, and Hyde—please don't kill Kelso. He's trying to help, but he's just—he's stupid."

Kelso looked wounded. "I am not."

"Sometimes you are," Fez said.

"Only some?" Kelso said.

"Only some."

"Apology accepted."

Hyde broke off from them to put his backpack back in order. He knelt on the floor and packed some of Snow White's clothing. Jackie's grunts of frustration were leaking through bathroom. No telling when she'd consider herself viewable. "There's gotta be a way to break this curse without hurting her," he said and repacked his condoms and extra boxers.

"Listen," Kelso said in what used to be his deep cop voice, now his Captain-of-the-Guard voice, "this is a mystery, and I'm a master at solving those now."

Fez patted Kelso's arm. "Yes, you did a great job discovering why the Whistling Rock had stopped whistling."

"Thanks. So, Hyde..." Kelso dropped the affected tone, "I'm gonna help you and Jackie out with this—if Fez lets me."

"Of course," Fez said. "And I will help, too."

Hyde finished with the backpack, and he threw it on the bed, on top of Snow White's remaining clothes. The bathroom door clicked open seconds later, and Jackie stepped out of it. Her orange, chin-length hair had been combed into shiny smoothness. The lavender blouse and skirt skimmed her waist and hips, flattering her curves. Yeah, she was heavy, man, and the orange hair didn't go with her skin tone—but, damn, if she still wasn't the hottest chick he'd ever seen.

"Steven, you're staring." She tugged at the skirt. "Is it that bad?"

"No." His chest suddenly hurt, as if a cold, jagged knife had cut into it. He needed physical contact with her. He moved in close and pulled her tightly to his body. His hands locked around her back, and hers did the same to him. _You're beautiful,_ he wanted to say. _Always will be._ But she wouldn't believe him. She'd take it as pity, and he wouldn't add that unintended insult to her injuries.

"The ring wasn't cursed before I gave it to you," Fez said. "That much I am sure of. It must have been cursed the moment you put it on Jackie's finger."

Jackie lay her head against Hyde's heart. "Who would do that to us?"

"I don't know," Fez said. "What I _do_ know is that people in the Nine Kingdoms usually live happily ever after or get killed by horrible curses." He opened the cloche with the pancakes and poured syrup on them. "Rapunzel's daughter knows the most about curses, but she fell under one herself years ago. Her whole kingdom is asleep and blocked off by a magical thorn wall." He grabbed a knife and fork.

"Come on, man," Hyde said, moving away from Jackie. He swiped the silverware from Fez and sliced into the pancakes himself. "You've got connections bleeding outta your ears. There's gotta be someone who knows about this shit."

"What about Cindy?" Kelso said.

"Cindy?" Jackie joined Hyde by the trolly, and he offered her a piece of pancake. She ate it without hesitation.

"Cinderella was around when curses were really in vogue," Fez said, nodding, "but she is reclusive. She still rules the First Kingdom and only seems to come out when there's a ball."

Hyde remembered Cinderella well. She was a smart lady, had almost picked up on Laurie's trick at Fez's coronation—that the Fez she'd danced with was in fact an imposter, a dog with Fez's body.

"How hard can it be to see her?" Jackie said. She'd opened the cloche with the omelets and was eating enthusiastically, and Hyde inwardly thanked Fez's chefs. They'd temporarily made her forget her vanity. "You're royalty; she's royalty..." she twirled her egg-topped fork in the air, "an audience should be easy to get. Daddy was always able to get face-to-face time with congressmen and even some senators."

Fez sighed. "Oh, it is very hard."

"You can say that again," Kelso said, and Fez laughed in response.

"Fez," Hyde warned.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Fez waved in front of him, as if that would dispel his laughter. It didn't.

Jackie quirked up an eyebrow and spoke to Hyde in a hushed, conspiratorial tone. "Fez isn't only the king; he's also royal fool."

"Nice burn," Hyde whispered back. "Guess Kelso's too busy being the village idiot."

"Nicer burn," she said with mischief in her eyes, and he pecked her on the lips. _Oh, yeah,_ chicks didn't get hotter than her.

"Cinderella doesn't talk to fellow monarchs outside of royal events," Fez said once his laughter finally died down. "She should be making an appearance at the annual Glass Slipper Ball. It commemorates the ball where she first met her prince and fell in love. She always judges a contest..." His expression grew strained, as if he'd just tossed a sack of bricks over his shoulder. "The contest starts at midnight tonight. After that, she won't show herself for another two weeks—not until the Council of the Nine Kingdoms."

Hyde gestured to Jackie and himself. "We got no time for 'shoulds' or for two freakin' weeks We're going to the First Kingdom tonight, to that ball."

"And we," Kelso gestured to Fez and himself, "will go with you... right Fez?"

"Yes," Fez said, and Hyde chuckled. Watching Kelso defer to Fez would never get old.

"Oh, no," Jackie said, "I am _not_ going to a ball looking like this."

"Do you wanna look like that the rest of your life?" Hyde said.

Her chin jutted out defiantly, but she also thought he was right. She had a tell, the slight fall of her shoulders. All he had to do was wait. _Three... two... one..._

Her shoulders slumped lower. "Fine."

* * *

Eric crawled over Donna's bare back and dropped kisses on her shoulders. She was lying on her stomach, on their plush honeymoon bed, reading a copy of the _First Kingdom Gazette._ He had no idea what time it was, only that it was day. They'd had sex half a dozen times throughout the night and well into the dawn, and now the sun was shining through the floor-to-ceiling window, but indirectly so it didn't blind them. He kissed the nape of her neck, and her fingers closed over the paper, crushing it. Her whole body tensed, but not from annoyance. She wanted him...

He could smell it.

"Eric, I'm really trying to read this."

"And I'm trying to kiss you." He pressed his lips against her jawline. Her skin was warm and smooth, and he inhaled deeply. _Man,_ her scent did things to him he couldn't describe. His hand glided over her collarbone, inched toward her breasts—

_"You're dreaming from the waist on down,"_ her engagement ring sang. _"You're dreaming of a day when a cold shower helps your health..."_

"Eric, if you don't get off me, I'm going to become a widow."

He withdrew his hand, withdrew his whole body from her and the bed. What was so interesting about a newspaper? They were on their honeymoon, damn it. But they were also in the Nine Kingdoms, and Donna's curiosity was bound to get the better of her. He couldn't fault her for that. His appetite had done the same to him.

Breakfast this morning had consisted of bacon and eggs—and more bacon. He'd requested an entire plate for himself, and Donna had watched raptly as he devoured it within minutes. She didn't seem to mind his voracity, though. In fact, he was pretty sure she'd been turned on by it because she jumped him right afterward.

Only crumbs remained on the serving trolley now. He pushed it through the glamored door, a weird sight, and his mind registered it like a movie special effect. The trolly vanishing seemed only half-real to him, like much of his life lately... and yet, some things felt more real than they ever had.

His senses had grown acute since he started weight training and running. He heard sounds from far distances, even the quietest ones like a mouse scratching at a wall. His eyesight, too, had sharpened. Spotting those dogwood blossoms during the wedding still shocked him. The petals were distinct, not shapeless blobs of color And the way things smelled and tasted—almost as good as sex. Unless, of course, it was a foul odor like a fart. Then his eyes would tear up, and he'd have to leave.

But his favorite change, by far, was the intensity of touching, of being touched. The thick carpet beneath his feet felt soft enough to curl up on, and he would have taken a nap on it if he wasn't still so horny. Pastor Dan had been wrong about premarital celibacy. Honeymoon sex was incredible even without it.

Eric moved back to the bed, and Donna mumbled, "Interviewing her would be amazing..." She was deep in thought, eyes focused on some article in the paper.

"Interviewing _who?_ "

"Cinderella. The Glass Slipper Ball is tonight, here in the castle. She's holding a contest at midnight, and the prize is an audience with her."

"I don't dance well enough to win a contest, Donna," he said. "You're lucky I don't step on your—" _Feet,_ but he stopped himself before he blurted the deadly word. She'd probably take it as an insult about the size of hers. "If Fez were here, maybe you two could have entered, but—"

She turned on her side and finally showed him her gorgeous face. She barely ever wore makeup, and he preferred her natural appearance. He got a full view of her breasts, too, more enticing than any pair he'd ogled in a nudie magazine. A low growl tickled his throat. His muscles tensed. His every instinct urged him to pounce on her, but she said, "The contest is about true love, not dancing."

"And whose love is more true than ours?" he said and sat next to her. His hand landed on the curve of her waist. That small contact would have to be enough for now.

"Exactly!" Her expression brightened. "If I could interview Cinderella, maybe I could get an article into one of the papers here."

"Yeah, that would be great, but it wouldn't count as a credit back home."

"I don't care. I want the experience. It could prepare me to interview people in power positions, ask tough questions they couldn't back down from."

Eric slid his palm up her side and past her breasts, until it reached her face. His fingers caressed her cheek, and she smiled at the touch. He'd do anything for her, _anything._ "M'lady, if I have to make a fool of myself while your feet bleed in those glass slippers, I'll do it. When do we have to register?"

"Before midnight."

"Midnight, huh?" He looked out the window, but he couldn't tell the time by the brightness of the sky, so he bounded off the bed to a pile of their clothes. They'd torn them off each other last night, and his watch was in that pile somewhere. He draped Donna's wedding dress on an overstuffed armchair, searched the pockets of his tuxedo pants and found Laurie's seeds. He gathered them in his hand, kept his fist curled around them as he continued his search. The watch was under his white dress shirt, and the time read 10:14 A.M.—

Which meant they had another thirteen hours of loving ahead of them.

He went to the luggage racks and unzipped his suitcase. His brown slacks lay on top of everything and he transferred the seeds into its deep pocket.

"What are those?" Donna said.

His breath hitched. He couldn't tell her about Laurie or what Laurie had told him, not yet. "What do they look like, Donna? They're seeds."

"Thanks for the specifics, dink. Guess I'll re-read the paper..."

She rolled onto her stomach again and pointed to a headline. Eric's keen eyesight read it from across the room: "The Second Kingdom United?" Even the tiny writing of the article was clear to him, and he read it aloud. "Queen Gretel the Third's death has left the north kingdom without a ruler. Calls have been made for Queen Riding Hood the Third to take over, to heal the rift between the north and south—"

Donna glanced back at him. "You can see that?"

"Yeah." The seeds were safely ensconced in his slacks' pocket, and he returned to her side.

"How?"

"Exercise."

"No way." She sat up and tossed the paper aside. She ran her hand up his stomach, her fingertips tracing the muscles in his chest. "Your eyes aren't affected by that. Only your..."

Her eyes definitely seemed affected—by lust. She never used to look at him quite that way before, but he wasn't complaining. Far from it. He finally had something tangible to offer in return for her hotness.

Her arms slipped over his shoulders, and her hands brushed wildly through his hair. She was barely controlling herself. "You shouldn't have been able to read that article from so far away."

"Who cares?" he said as her scent grew strong in his nostrils. His own control was gone, and he pushed her down onto the bed. Loving her was one of his greatest pleasures, and he gave her everything he had as the sun rose higher in the sky.

* * *

The sun had sunk past the horizon, darkening the countryside. But the full moon shone like a beacon in the sky, bright and round, and Jackie couldn't stop looking at it. She didn't know how many hours they'd spent in Fez's coach, traveling the somewhat bumpy road toward the First Kingdom. She refused to check Steven's watch. Time was an enemy now. How many days would pass before the curse did something else to her?

She was sitting on Steven's left side, keeping her left hand far away him. As much as she despised being fat, she couldn't risk what removing her ring would do. The extra pounds weighed her down painfully, and her hips felt like anvils as she walked, but those things she could deal with. The curse transferring to Steven, subjecting him to something equally as horrid? She wouldn't forgive herself.

"We are in the First Kingdom," Fez said across from her. He and Michael were sitting together—well, not together, exactly. They each sat flush against opposite sides of the coach, staring out the windows.

"Jackie, check it out," Steven said. He pointed through the window closest to him. "What the hell are those?"

"Those are the Enchanted Pumpkins," Fez explained as Jackie looked at the countryside, "grown from the seeds of Cinderella's glorious coach. Her Fairy Godmother had turned a pumpkin into one."

Glowing pumpkin patches rolled past the window, but Jackie was more interested in the weddings taking place within them. She caught glimpses of brides and grooms standing together. Like Donna and Eric, they'd have a chance to live their lives together, to be happy.

Steven turned toward her, as if eavesdropping in on her thoughts. His arm eased around her shoulders and drew her near. His lips kissed the top of her head, and an "I love you" might've followed had they been alone. But he wouldn't say that to her in public. He never had.

It didn't matter. She clutched his corduroy jacket and pulled herself against him. His presence—his _love—_ was firmly planted in her chest, but how soon before the curse stole his love from her, too?


	13. Hunger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 13  
 **HUNGER**  


Didn't matter how many towers Cinderella's castle had or how every brick inside was adorned with jewels. Hyde would take his small, unembellished apartment in Kenosha any damn day.

Cinderella's attendants were leading him, Jackie, Kelso, and Fez down a wide hall lined with a purple carpet. Guards stood sentry at various points along the way. Rapiers were slung at their sides—same as Kelso and Fez had—and the weapons weren't for show. Hyde stuck a hand into his jacket pocket. The rag-wrapped Wolfsbane pebble had remained intact. The thing didn't compare to a sword, but it would buy him and Jackie some time if a nasty critter attacked them.

Cinderella's attendants, however, had no weapons as far as he could tell. They all wore pale blue suits with silver brocade, but Hyde was more concerned with what Jackie was wearing. She'd changed into a burgundy dress during their ride over here, which he had no problem with. But she'd also put her heels on again, insisting she couldn't go to a ball in her boots. So he stuffed the boots back into his backpack and carried it on his shoulders. Memories of her bitching in heels had made him cautious. She couldn't run well in them, and it was better to be prepared than dead.

"These are dangerous times," Fez had said before they left his own castle. "Instability in one kingdom threatens the stability of all." He was referring to the assassination of Queen Gretel the Third. It had happened in the Second Kingdom, but Hyde didn't care about fairy-tale politics. Breaking this damn curse was all he intended to do before going back through the mirror with his chick.

"Steven, take off your sunglasses," Jackie said as they trod on a ruby-encrusted floor. Cinderella's castle sparkled with overindulgence, and it sickened him. "You're missing the splendor!"

"The shades are staying where they are," he said. They protected his eyes—and sense of injustice—from the blinding amount of glittering jewels. Cindy was rich as hell, apparently, but how much food did it take out of the mouths of the masses?

Jackie plumped out her bottom lip. "Until the ball?"

"Fine."

They continued to follow the attendants, who eventually stopped them at the foot of a tower. A spiral staircase wound up toward the roof. "May we take your packs now?" an attendant said.

Hyde grabbed onto the straps of his backpack. No one but Jackie or himself was touching their stuff. Kelso refused the offer, too. He was hefting a bundled pack, letting one of the straps dangle.

"Very good," the attendant said, and he—with the rest of his ilk—ushered everyone up the stairs. They were a cloying bunch, those guys. They fawned over Fez like he was some kind of royalty... which he was, but whatever. They'd already offered him a royal haircut, a manicure, and a banquet in his honor.

"No, thank you. We are here for the ball," Fez kept repeating. "I said, 'Ball!'" but the attendants didn't take the hint. They'd been over-trained in obeisance.

Fez followed the attendants up the stairs first. Jackie should've gone after him, but she stood back, instead waving for Hyde to go ahead of her.

"I don't think so," he said. He planned on keeping her in his eyeline as long as they were here. Couldn't risk a headcase like the Huntsman leaping out from nowhere to swipe her.

"Steven," she said and gestured angrily for him to go up the stairs. Torchieres brightened the hallway, and their orange light danced over her engagement ring.

"I'm not gonna try to take it, okay?" He grasped her shoulders, turned her around, and pushed her forward. He hated being aggressive like that, but her stubbornness gave him little choice.

Two flights up, the attendants brought them to a narrow hall. It led to an enormous chamber—bigger than Point Place High's gymnasium—and the vaulted ceiling rose high overhead. A painted banner hung across the entryway, reading: "Annual Glass Slipper Ball and Contest Registration," and the room was jammed with people, long lines of them waiting before tables.

"Oh, it reminds me of the DMV," Fez said wistfully.

"Are you going to participate in the contest, Sir Kelso?" an attendant said.

Kelso reached up and grazed the banner's edge with his fingertips, "Why would I do that?" but withdrew his hand at a stern look from Fez.

The attendant's eyebrows raised, as if the answer were obvious. "To win an audience with Her Majesty, Cinderella."

Jackie patted Hyde's back frantically. "We have to do that! We'll get a chance to ask her about the—"

"Yes," Fez said, cutting her off. "You can ask about her kingdom's contribution to the Candy and Pie Expo. Very exciting."

"No," Jackie said, "about the—"

Hyde cradled her cheeks and moved in for a deep kiss. He had to shut her up before she said too much. She fought him at first, but as he used the fullness of his lips and tongue, she gave in with a muffled whimper, and he didn't let up until Fez dismissed the attendants.

"Why did you do that?" she said, smacking Hyde's chest. She was half-smiling, though, and he half-smiled back, relieved his kisses still had that effect on her—cursed or not.

"To keep your big mouth quiet, woman!" Fez said and nodded to the chamber's crowd of people. "Knowledge is power, and we don't know who is attending this ball."

She stiffened and clutched the back of Hyde's corduroy jacket. "You don't think the person who did this to us is here,do you?"

Fez shook his head. "I don't know if it was a person at all, but we must be careful."

Hyde didn't know what Fez meant by that, but Kelso tapped Hyde's shoulder and pointed to a particularly long line. "You gotta sign up for the contest over there."

The four of them went to the line. About three dozen people were organized in a corral of thick, pale-blue ropes. They included humans, Elves, Dwarves—even a few warty Goblins—and Hyde peered over their heads to the registry table.

"What the hell are the rules of this thing?" he said. "It's gotta be some kind of dancing bullshit." If so, he didn't stand a chance. "Jackie, maybe you should do this with Fez."

"Excuse me," Fez said to a Dwarf couple in front of them, "may we please see your flyer?"

The woman of the pair dropped her mouth open, but the man said, "K—King Fez? My goodness, it's—it's King Fez!"

"King Fez?" someone shouted ahead of them.

"The Fourth Kingdom's sovereign, here?" another shouted.

The Dwarves bowed low, "Your Majesty," and Fez backed up out of the line with Kelso.

Too late. Half of the line filed out of the corral and swarmed around them. People from other lines joined them, too, until neither Fez or Kelso could be seen anymore. Guards stepped in to disperse the crowd, but Hyde and Jackie dashed ahead to secure a better spot near the contest registry table.

"Steven, Steven—look!" Jackie was waving the flyer at him. The Dwarf must have dropped it. "We're a shoo-in!"

He took the the flyer from her and read it:

**The Glass Slipper Contest  
** _**Only True Loves Eligible** _

And that was pretty much all there was to it, save some information about time, place, and how to register. And that dancing would be required.

He questioned Jackie with his eyes, and she brushed his sideburn with back of her fingers. "No one's love is truer than ours, Puddin'. Why else do you think we were—" She stopped talking and flashed her cursed ring at him.

"Right." He pressed her hand against his cheek. "Good thing you coerced me into those ballroom lessons."

* * *

Outside, the moon was bright and full. It shone through the floor-to-ceiling window, adding more light to Eric and Donna's suite, and Eric touched his palms to the cold glass.

"Eric?" Donna called from behind him.

He didn't turn around. His eyes were fixed on the glowing tease in the sky.

"We've gotta get down to the registration chamber," she said.

But a strange feeling swirled at the center of his chest, and it needed release. He inhaled deeply, and—

"Eric."A strong hand gripped his arm and forced him around. Donna was standing there, wearing a teal dress that exhibited her delectable curves. "What's wrong with you?"

"The moon, it's..." _making me hungry for everything,_ he wanted to say, but how could he explain that to her? He couldn't even explain it to himself. "Never mind." He stepped away from the window and closed in on her. His palms skimmed over the small of her back and settled on her butt. "You look incredible. _Incredibly_ incredible." He kissed her exposed collarbone, then her neck, and finally her lips. He needed to taste her, if just for a few seconds, but she pulled away before he really had a chance.

"Come on." She tugged him toward the door. "You have the key?"

He patted the pockets of his brown slacks. Laurie's seeds were in one, and his glass key was in the other. "Yup."

"Good. Let's go." She prodded him into the hallway. "All candles, out."

The room darkened behind them, leaving only the moon to cast its glow on the furniture. He took a step back toward it, but Donna's fingers laced between his, and she led him away.

* * *

Fez should have gone to the First Kingdom incognito. Being mobbed never pleased him, not in his own land or in registration chambers like this. Kelso did his best to block him from the rush of people, but the crowd came at them from all sides.

"Sign my flyer!" someone shouted.

"No, sign my bosom!"

"Can you spare a few Golden Fezes? I have twelve children..."

Fez put up his hands helplessly. Sometimes he didn't think things through. Fortunately, Cinderella's guards made up for his mistake. They scattered the crowd within moments. Then they escorted Fez and Kelso to the front of the line for the ball.

"Will you dance with me tonight?" one woman said on their way up.

"No, he'll dance with me!" shouted another woman.

"I will dance with as many of you lovelies as I can," Fez said to a mass of excited squeals.

Kelso saluted. "So will I." But the women didn't react. "I'm Sir Kelso the Valiant, Defeater of the Trolls?"

"Oh!" One woman fainted and was caught by her friend. The others responded with their previous excitement.

"Yeah, that's more like it," Kelso said. He was standing with his back to the registry table and winked at the ladies. "I'll do a few of you, too, if I get the time."

Fez grasped Kelso's shoulders and turned him to the table. "You will _not_ get the time. You have to be on-guard tonight."

"Aw, man..."

"Greetings, Your Highness," one of the registrars said. He was a strong-jawed man with shaggy hair. He resembled nothing like the delicate quill he held. "Which one of you will be wearing the glass slippers tonight? And, may I say, that's quite progressive for a king."

Fez and Kelso stared at each other as the registrar went on about how several pairs "like them" had already registered for the _True Loves_ contest, and would they like to do so themselves? In response, Fez and Kelso scrunched up their faces. Then, as if a spark had been ignited in their pants, they jumped away from each other.

"Whoa, no!" Kelso said. "We're not going together."

Fez crossed his arms. "Yes, we want to pick up ladies at the ball. _Ladies."_

"Oh." The registrar tutted and marked them down as "singles" on the registry scroll. Then he handed them each two shiny badges. "Pin these to your lapels. They'll let the _ladies_ know you're available."

"Thank you," Fez said, and he and Kelso moved away from the table. Fez grabbed Kelso's arm once they were some distance away and kept his voice to a whisper. "Why do people keep thinking we have _needs_ for each other?"

"Maybe 'cause you had that sex dream about me?" Kelso was grinning. "I mean, I'm freakin' gorgeous. Who wouldn't want me?"

Fez returned the grin, but his had a hint of hostility to it. "All of Amedica, my friend."

"You _had_ to remind me..."

"Yes, just like you just reminded me of that sex dream, you sonuvabitch."

Kelso glared at him but didn't retaliate, and Fez was proud. Kelso had learned how far he could push him in the last eight months, though not without some trial and error. They were no longer civilian friends but friends who had duty and rank. Fez could no longer be the butt of his jokes or his test dummy. The power-switch was necessary...

But Fez missed those carefree days through the mirror, in Point Place, where his most urgent concerns were losing his virginity and not losing a toe from Kelso's pranks. Now, as King, he had so much responsibility. And sometimes his head felt so heavy, too heavy.

"Fez?" Kelso patted his back. "You okay, buddy? I was just messing around with that sex-dream stuff."

"I'm fine." Fez opened a flap in Kelso's knapsack and pulled out a pouch of chocolate. "And now," he ate a few pieces, "I'm even better."

* * *

Donna and Eric finally reached the front of the registration line. The chamber was packed—and _loud_ with all the chattering going on around them—and Eric occasionally winced. The noise seemed to cause him pain.

"We'll need your full names," the registrar said. Her voice had an edge to it, as if she were tired of dealing with the line.

"I'm Donna Marie—"

A dark-haired man caught her attention. He was standing in a line parallel to theirs, and he brushed his fingertips against his temple, the way a dog might scratch himself with his back foot.

Her breath froze in her throat. No, it couldn't be him. But the memory of too-strong hands and snapping jaws shot adrenaline through her system.

"E—Eric," she said and yanked on his brown suit jacket, "w—wolf."

"What?" Eric looked at her, and she pointed across to the other line. "Where?"

"There. Right there," she said, but the man was gone. "I thought I saw..." She shook her head. She'd thought she'd _heard_ him, too, at their wedding. Of all the nightmares she had reliving those frightening moments during Fez coronation, none was more frightening to her than that wolf. Her imagination must've been conjuring post-traumatic phantasms.

Eric rubbed her back soothingly and finished up the registration process for them. Then, after they stepped free of the line, he said, "I'm gonna check out the fine print on the contest rules." He indicated a sign tacked against the wall. "Be right back."

A few moments later, a pudgy redhead thrust herself into Donna's arms, making them both stumble backward. The girl was sobbing and knew Donna's name: "I'm cursed, Donna. I'm cursed!"

That voice was unmistakable. "Jackie?" Donna pushed her away to get a better look. Despite the plump cheeks and orange hair, that was definitely Jackie Burkhart. "You look like you swallowed a hundred balloons."

"I know!" Jackie wiped her tears and sniffled. "It's the ring Steven gave me..." She went on to explain the curse, what it might do to her and Hyde—and that Fez's grandfather had stolen the diamond from a dragon's hoard. "The curse was supposed to be dead with the dragon," she said, "but Fez doesn't know anything else. That's why we're here, Donna. We have to see Cinderella. We have to ask her—"

"Guess who I found," Eric said. He and a casually-dressed Hyde walked up to them, giving Donna no time to process Jackie's presence here, let alone the curse. "Wow," Eric's stare locked onto Jackie, "you weren't kidding, Hyde. Man..."

"What?" Jackie slapped the back of Hyde's head. "You told him how disgusting I look?" _Slap! Slap!_ "How catching sight of me makes you wanna throw up?" _Slap! Slap! Slap!_

"That never stopped him before," Eric mumbled. "You nauseated him before you were cursed, and he _still_ made-out with you."

"Forman, that's not helping." Hyde grabbed Jackie's still-slapping hand, and she turned away from him. "Hey, I just told him about the ring and what it did to you. Nothin' about wanting to puke."

He took off his sunglasses, and his gaze raked over Jackie's body. Donna recognized the look; Eric had given it to her last night and this morning—and before they'd left their room just a little while ago. But Eric's eyes had been without the worry Hyde's naked eyes held.

"Jackie," Hyde pressed his lips against her ear, "you don't disgust me..." and slid his hands to the front of her fleshy stomach. His voice grew low as he spoke, and Donna couldn't make out his next words. But whatever they were, they were enough to make Jackie turn back around and loop her arms around him.

"I can't believe you're cursed," Donna blurted, but the proof stood right in front of her. It would explain, too, Jackie's moodiness as of late. "Is that... I mean, is it going to...?" But the question died in Donna's mouth as a wave sadness crashed into her. Jackie and Hyde had been through the wringer enough, dealing with their own impulsive mistakes. They deserved a damn break. "Listen," she said, "if Eric and I win this contest, I'll tell Cinderella everything and ask her what I can."

"That won't be necessary," Jackie said and fluffed her hair. "Steven and I have this contest all but won."

Donna suppressed a laugh. Cursed or not, Jackie was still _Jackie._

"We should get going," Eric said. The chamber had grown considerably more quiet in the last few minutes. People were entering the ballroom down a marble staircase and through a pair of double doors. Music filtered into the chamber. The ball was clearly underway.

Eric offered Donna his arm, but Fez and Kelso strode toward them. Donna didn't suppress her laugh this time. All six of them were here, like they were tucked away in the safety of the Formans' basement. But nothing was safe about the Nine Kingdoms. Magic hid like cobwebs in the smallest of corners. Troll dust could fly at a person at any moment and knock her out. Wolves could be lurking anywhere...

"Hah-hah. We crashed your honeymoon," Kelso sang. "Burn!"

Eric smirked. "What? You didn't hear us all the way in the Fourth Kingdom? Because, believe me, we were loud."

"Eric!" Donna nudged his shoulder.

_"Eww!"_ Jackie said.

"People," Fez said, pointing to Hyde's watch, "there is only a half-hour to midnight. It's boogie-time."

But as the six of them went down the marble staircase, Eric nuzzled Donna's neck. The skin there tingled, and the heat between her thighs responded in kind. The feeling wasn't unwelcome, just inconvenient. He turned her on so much these days, had grown much more self-assured.

"God, you smell good," he growled into her skin.

She wanted to growl back, would've found some private enclave and forgotten about the Glass Slipper Ball—had Jackie and Hyde not needed them.

Eric kissed her shoulder when they reached the double doors, and she forced herself to pull away. "Save it for the contest," she said.

He relented, but the searing look he gave her made her skin prickle. He was different tonight—more than usual. Not bad, just... different. He seemed hungry for her, almost starving, and she'd have to fight hard to keep herself from giving in.


	14. Split Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 14  
 **SPLIT APART**  


Cinderella's ballroom was as grand as any Jackie had ever seen—and the diamond-splashed ceiling was the least of it. Three levels of golden balconies encircled the dance floor. These were partially blocked-off by red draperies, but dozens of eyes peeked out from them. The bejeweled chandeliers must have dazzled the spectators as much as the dancers did below, with their gleaming circlets of silver and ruby cufflinks. No wonder a dozen guards were stationed at the double doors.

A small host of musicians performed on a round stage, but the ballroom's most spectacular feature was the towering, longcase clock. It stood against the back wall, stretching high toward the second level of balconies. The clock face was large enough to be read from anywhere in the room, and its chimes would probably shake the marble floor.

Jackie shifted her attention from the décor to the dancers. People from all over the Nine Kingdoms had to be here, including Elves and Dwarves and beings she couldn't classify. This had to be _the_ social event of the season, and she got to attend it with the man she was deeply in love with. That last thought excited her chest with tiny chills. Curse be damned, she was going to enjoy herself.

Michael and Fez had broken away to schmooze the single women. Donna and Eric followed, vanishing into the dancing crowd, just as Jackie intended to do. But Steven seemed distracted by something. Or maybe the opulence surrounding them made him uncomfortable. He kept glancing about, focusing on everything but her. She grasped his hands and placed one where her waist used to be. Then his fingers closed around her right palm, as if it were instinct to him.

"Ready?" she said when he finally looked at her. Her left hand moved to his shoulder, on top of a nylon strap. He'd refused to leave his backpack in the coach.

"Which fruity dance is this?" he said without moving a step.

"Listen to the music, Steven."

"Don't really want to."

"Steven!" She gave his left hand a little squeeze, "It's _a..._ " and nodded, encouraging him to answer.

"Waltz."

"What kind of waltz?"

He responded by leading her in a circle, and he continued to turn them in circles across the ballroom floor. It was a Viennese Waltz, one of her favorites. His memory of the steps delighted her. More thrilling, however, was watching his discomfort fade as they danced. It was replaced by a smile that reached his eyes, like she was beautiful to him, like he was proud to be with her.

She straightened her carriage. Her posture had suffered thanks to her heavier breasts and overall insecurity, but when Steven displayed her to the ballroom as—well, not a like flower, but a Camaro or something else he claimed to love—she felt light, as if her body was hers again.

Dance after dance, he didn't let her go. He was so sexy the way he led her, how his hands firmly gripped her body. At his Junior Prom, during their first dance ever, he'd barely held onto her. His fingers remained open around her palm, and they'd turned his hand into a platform, something she had to clutch to keep from falling on her face...

"Jackie," he was squeezing her non-existent waist now, "what's going on?"

"What?" Her eyes refocused on him, and his corduroy jacket startled her. She'd expected to see a black tux with a purple ruffled shirt.

"Just a second ago, you were grinning your ass off," he said.

"I'm sorry... stupid memories. You really used to be disgusted by me, didn't you?"

He drew himself closer to her, "Kinda," and his arousal pressed into her thigh, "but that hasn't been a problem in a long time."

He was hard enough for her to feel through his jeans. How could he still want her like this? How had he made love to her last night? But his lips swept over her jawline and kissed her, melting away her doubts—until the towering longcase clock struck twelve. Its booming chimes were metallic and relentless, and they thrust her and Steven apart.

She pressed her hands to her ears, but he recovered faster than she did when the ringing finally stopped. He pulled himself back to her side and pointed above the clock. Two ugly women were standing inside a balcony. This had to be Cinderella's royal box. A throne of glass, elaborately carved, was set on a dais. Two less impressive chairs stood on either side of it.

"They kinda look like my aunt Phyllis," Steven said about the ugly women, "but prettier."

Jackie didn't respond. Internally, she was judging them—their jowly faces, the horribly-applied makeup —but she had too little beauty left of her own. She had no business speaking her thoughts, not when someone in the ballroom could judge her right back.

"Lords and Ladies," the ugly women said with deep, mannish voices, "we present to you the woman of the hour, one of the Five Uniters of the Nine Kingdoms, the original glass-slipper dipper—she's 200-hundred-years-old, folks, and doesn't look a day over a hundred—Queen Cinderella!"

Cinderella emerged from red draperies to a musical fanfare and the ball guests' applause. Her red hair shone beautifully against her pale blue dress, and her skin was impossibly smooth for her age. A delicate diamond crown topped her head, and when the two ugly women tried to help her to the throne, she shook them off.

"She should really let the Stepsisters do their duty," someone whispered behind Jackie. "Her bones must be dust by now."

"Oh, please," said another. "She's as spry as she ever was. Long live Queen Cinderella!"

"If I had as much gold as she does," a third person said, "I could afford that much magic surgery, too."

Cinderella sat on her glass throne with some effort. Her blue eyes stared intently at the guests, but she remained silent as the Stepsisters spoke. "The Annual Midnight Contest is about to begin," they said. "Anyone not participating, please leave the dance floor at this time and go to the balconies."

Guests streamed to the ballroom's many staircases, and they emptied from the floor to the balconies. At least a third of them were leaving, and that raised Jackie's hopes. The less competition, the better chance she and Steven had to win.

Soon, the balconies were packed with observers, and the Stepsisters pulled out what looked like glass wind chimes. They shook them, and sound dripped off like rain hitting a crystal roof. Sparkling light filled the ballroom. It stung Jackie's eyes, and she reached for Steven's hand, but her fingers closed around air. She tried again, reaching for him blindly, but had no luck.

"Steven?" she said. The ballroom had dimmed considerably, _mood lighting,_ but sparkles still dazzled her eyes. When her sight finally cleared, she was at the far end of the ballroom—a long way from where she and Steven had been standing moments ago.

Her heart beat against her ribs. Steven was nowhere to be seen. Only women surrounded her now, dressed in gowns far more spectacular than she remembered them wearing. They all had jeweled masks on their faces and glass slippers on their feet. She looked down at herself. Glass slippers were on her feet, too, and Snow White's burgundy dress no longer covered her body but a glittering, silver ballgown.

And she was no longer fat.

She cupped her forehead as a wave of dizziness hit her. The floor seemed farther away, as if she'd grown taller. Her left hand was covered by a silver glove, but the outline of her ring poked through the fabric. The curse couldn't have caused her latest transformation. Everyone else had been affected similarly. The Stepsisters must have conjured some kind of magic spell.

Jackie touched her cheek and felt the smooth surface of a jewel. One of those masks was on her face. She tugged at it, but it wouldn't budge.

"Lords and Ladies," the Stepsisters shouted from Cinderella's royal balcony, "you will find you no longer look like yourselves. You will also find you no longer remember your own name or that of your true love..."

Jackie laughed incredulously. Of course she knew her own name. It was—it started with a... _damn it!_ But she knew the name of what's-his-name. No, that wasn't right! His name wasn't What's-His-Name. It was...

"Oh, God..." Her gaze swept across the ballroom. Past the musicians' stage stood a crowd of men all in formal wear. Their faces were obscured by jeweled masks, too.

Panic rose in her chest. If she didn't look like herself, and if What's-His-Name didn't look like himself, how were they ever supposed to find each other?"

* * *

Hyde scowled beneath the mask stuck to his face. _Fucking magic._ He'd become scrawny like a damn toothpick, spindly arms and legs, and irremovable white gloves were on his hands.

"The glamor is temporary, of course," the Ugly Stepsisters said from the royal balcony. "For it to end, the contest must be won. And that can take anywhere from one minute to, well..." they glanced each other and laughed, "you don't want to know how long last year's contest took."

Hyde stared across the ballroom to the clusters of women. His chick could be anywhere among them. She needed to do something familiar, like kick the shin of every guy she passed. Then he'd know it was her.

"The rules are as follows," the Stepsisters continued. "Each person must have a dance partner a third-way into each song, or she or he will be eliminated. The first couple to find their true loves will win an audience with Cinderella."

The guests in the balconies all cheered, as did most on the ballroom floor, but Hyde scratched the back of his neck and muttered, "Great..."

* * *

The first dance was similar to a foxtrot but not as elegant. Jackie found a partner almost immediately, a stocky, sweaty man who kept winking at her. Definitely not What's-His-Name. Besides the annoying winking, his rhythm was all wrong. What's-His-Name had a fluid quick-quick, slow, quick-quick kind of movement, like Pete Townshend's guitar strumming. This guy moved like he was trapped in stop-start traffic. It was nauseating. She wanted his hands off her _now,_ but she couldn't risk being disqualified.

She raised her chin to avoid his winking eye. Most of the other dancers looked as uncomfortable as she felt. If only What's-His-Name remembered to do something revealing, like punch each new partner in the shoulder, then maybe she'd spot him.

* * *

Kelso leaned over the balcony's balustrade, bored out of his mind. All those dancers on the floor got to play a cool game because they had a true love, but having a true love would be boring, too. Nailing only one chick for the rest of his life... he didn't know how Hyde and Eric did , though, didn't seem bored at all. He was standing beside Kelso and humming to the ball's lame music. Kelso would never get used to violins and harpsichords and whatever else the musicians played. _Man,_ did he miss KISS and Led Zeppelin and his kid and...

Fez nudged him, "I think Eric is that one," and pointed down to a green-skinned Goblin. "He dances in a very twitchy style."

"Yeah, probably," Kelso said.

"And that large-boobed one could be Jackie." Fez's fingers clutched the air, as if he were honking the woman's breasts. "Why aren't you laughing?"

Kelso shrugged. "Dunno."

Fez opened his mouth to say something else, but an older woman squeezed between them. She had high cheekbones, a nice rack, and thick, translucent Elf wings that fluttered against Kelso and Fez's backs.

"Pardon me," she said, "but aren't you King Fez and Kelso the Valiant?" She wasn't alone. Three Elven women accompanied her, and they squealed excitedly.

Fez swallowed and pulled at the collar of his suit. "No. We're, uh..."

"Impersonators," Kelso said. "Yeah, Cinderella hired us to add some spice to her ball."

"Yes." Fez nodded. "Some flavor."

The first Elf frowned, "Well, the likeness is uncanny," and she left the balcony with the others.

Kelso was tempted to follow them. All the Elves he'd been with were kinky, and a five-way would be just the thing to brighten his mood. But he had his duty. He'd actually become responsible, _mostly_ responsible, and he'd made his kid proud—but not 'cause of the magical chicks he'd nailed. She'd never know about any of that. She was proud of him because her daddy was a hero, and he planned on keeping it that way.

"Damn!" Fez whispered after a moment. "I could have done it with all of them tonight."

"Yup. Me, too, buddy. Me, too..." Kelso leaned over the balustrade again, "just not at the same time as you."

Fez made a face. "Most definitely not."

* * *

Donna was smiling as she waltzed. The man who held her in his arms felt familiar to her, comfortable, even though his Goblin-like appearance was completely repulsive. He'd greeted her politely but with a slight growl in his throat, the way her husband's voice sounded lately.

"I have to talk to you," he said a few measures into the waltz.

"Go ahead," she said, but his right arm lowered, pulling her left arm down with it. He led her into the open position where they danced side-by-side. His left arm remained around her waist, and he gently guided her to his other side. They promenaded around the floor a little while. Then he guided her to his right side again before returning them to the closed hold.

This man had to be her husband. The strength of his movements, the self-assuredness. "Husband," she said and felt like a fool calling him that, but she couldn't remember his name, "what are you—"

He inhaled deeply, and whatever he smelled must have pleased him because his eyes flashed orange, and he let out a soft howl. "Ohhh, you're the one, all right."

Her body stiffened, like a deer that had run across a wolf. "Oh, my God..." He _was_ a wolf, _that_ wolf. The one who'd tried to eat her in Fez's castle. She hadn't been imagining him, not in the registration chamber and not at her wedding. "Get away from me!" she shouted and tried to wrench herself free, but his grip was too strong.

"Now, now, don't be hasty. I just want to talk."

"Bullshit!" She kicked at his groin, but her foot missed him entirely. He was too nimble. "Oh, God—let me go!"

"You're not very receptive right now, are you?" He moved them to the open position again then pulled her back to him. "We'll have to do this another time—" Opened them out and pulled her back.

Though his teeth were blunted in his Goblin-glamored form, she knew just how sharp they really were, what they could do to her if he transformed into an actual wolf. It was a full moon tonight, and the realization spread ice through her already trembling body.

"I've learned to control much about myself, you see," he went on, "not the least of which is the moodiness that comes with my cycle. I won't even make the change this month... I don't think."

His left hand removed itself from her right, and his right palm pressed up against her left. He wanted her to do an outside turn.

She stood her ground, and he let out a small growl. "You danced better at your wedding."

"Shut up!" She jerked her left arm but couldn't shake him. Her arm felt as though would rip from its socket, but he grasped her right hand— _when would the damn dance be over?_ —and forced her to keep waltzing with him in closed hold.

Visions of this wolf salivating as she and her husband exchanged vows clawed through her mind, making her grow angrier by the second. He could end things right now if he wanted, break her neck and carry her off somewhere—and no one would know it was her. He'd finally get revenge for the death of his precious Evil Queen... for Laurie.

But he did as Donna had asked, remained silent until the dance's last steps. Then, without letting go of her hands, he bowed low. "Until our next meeting, my—"

Her knee shot out toward his head, "I'm not your _anything,_ " but he dodged her strike and slipped off into the sea of masked dancers.

* * *

So many smells saturated the ballroom—sweet ones and sour, those with a hint of talcum or rotten fruit—but Eric was sure he could distinguish his lady's were she to pass by him. He needed _some_ kind of advantage. The Elf wings jutting from his back inhibited movement. He kept bumping them into people as he danced, and he swore his fifth dance had been with Jackie. The way she tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder reminded him of her, and how she grunted in annoyance whenever his weird-as-hell wings brushed up against her skin. And her scent, too...

He'd tried to stir up conversation, to keep things casual. This wasn't a usual situation for him. The contests he entered usually involved _Star Wars_ trivia or, lately, a race. But she'd rolled her eyes and told him to "shut his trap".

Definitely could've been Jackie, and he almost asked. But she'd torn away from him as soon as the music ended.

Now he was caught in an agonizingly slow Rumba-like dance with a squat woman who seemed to enjoy it far too much. She rubbed her butt against his stomach and lower, and he tried not to audibly wretch. Being touched that way by anyone other than his lady—especially with that full moon out there so damn bright and enticing—made his every hair stand on end.

He would have preferred, by far, to be outside than in here, making love to his juicy redhead under the stars and that moon. Yeah, that sounded more than appetizing. Instead, he let the squat woman lead him around the ballroom like he was a lost puppy.

* * *

It was her eighth dance, and Jackie still hadn't found her beautiful What's-His-Name. The straw-haired man she tangoed with stunk like cabbage. She held her breath as much as she could, especially when he made their cheeks touch. But the smell bothered her less than the fact she still had over six dozen men who could be her fiancé.

She wouldn't be so quick to partner-up when the next dance started. She had time to search. Another pair of true loves was sure to win the contest if she didn't think first before acting. What's-His-Name always encouraged her to do that, to think.

Cabbage-Stink complimented her once the tango finally ended. He tried to kiss her gloved hand, but she dashed away—not easy to do in glass slippers. Her feet were sore from the lack of padding. Even her highest heels cushioned her delicate skin somewhat.

She scrutinized each man she passed and dismissed them as possibilities for various reasons: too cheerful, too slumped, one licked his lips repeatedly, another picked at his eyelid. And then, by the musicians' stage, she spotted a skinny man—as skinny as Eric used to be—standing with his legs apart and arms crossed.. It was a watchful stance, and the way his head tilted slightly...

Her pulse tightened. He was doing the same thing as she was, studying his potential partners to see if he could find the right one, _his_ one.

She bolted forward, and a stoop-shouldered man clutched at her wrist, clearly intending to be her dance partner. "Off!" she shouted, but he didn't get the message and reached for her hip. She had no time to waste; the song was almost a third-way through. She rammed the glass point of her slipper into his shin, causing Stoop-Shoulders to cry out and hop backward. The kick must have hurt like hell.

She shoved herself past him, but that Elf she'd quickstepped with a few dances ago got in her path. She elbowed his stupid wings out of the way and sucked in a sharp breath. The skinny, watchful man was standing in front of her now, his face obscured by one of those jeweled masks.

She began to speak, but his gloved hands locked onto her shoulders. His dark brown eyes sent heated shivers deep into her body, the way they were looking at her.

_Steven,_ she thought. She knew his name again, and his mouth pressed into her already parted lips. A quiet, relieved sigh escaped her as his tongue dipped in for a taste. She knew his kiss, too. Intimately.

Her arms closed around his bony back, which felt totally alien to her, but the warmth between their chests was more than familiar. It was a fundamental part burst in front of her closed eyelids, but she refused to open them, instead enjoying the rhythm of Steven's kiss, how his thumb caressed the ridge of her ear. Eight dances without him was long enough, too long.

"Jackie," he whispered when their lips finally separated. Her eyes opened slowly, and the sky blue of his irises met her.

Her knees buckled at the sight, "Oh, thank God," but he caught her. He was himself again. The jeweled mask was off his face. Bony shoulder blades had been replaced by the strong muscles of his back.

Crystal _trinka-trinks_ rolled out from Cinderella's royal balcony. The Stepsisters were shaking those glass wind chimes again. "Jacqueline Beulah Burkhart," they shouted in their masculine voices, "Steven James Hyde, congratulations! You are this year's contest winners!"

The ballroom erupted in applause and a few disappointed jeers, but Jackie clapped in delight and jumped up and down. "And again, we win everything!"

Steven grasped her left hand and stopped her from jumping. "Remember why we had to win it, doll." His voice was gruff with no hint of joy.

"Of course I remember." The forty extra pounds had returned to her, jerking painfully with her jumps, but for a few seconds, she'd wanted to forget.

Two of Cinderella's attendants met them on the dance floor, followed closely by four guards. Jackie held Steven's hand tightly as they were escorted to the royal balcony, where Cinderella was waiting for them. If the ball's other guests cast them congratulatory, adoring, or envious glances, Jackie didn't know. Her engagement ring took up all her attention, and its sky-blue diamond brought only fear.

* * *

Eric watched as Hyde and Jackie were taken to Cinderella's balcony. In moments, the two of them disappeared through the red draperies, and hope rocketed through Eric like an X-Wing. Maybe they'd get the answers the needed, but his hope didn't last long. Insecurity swept in, assaulting him like a TIE fighter. He should have been used to the feeling. He'd lived with it practically his whole life, but why hadn't he and Donna found each other first? Was Hyde and Jackie's love for each other more true than theirs?

Then again, happenstance could have kept him and Donna apart. She wouldn't have expected those damn wings on his back. Thankfully, they were gone now, but—

"Everyone on the balconies may now return to the dance floor," the Stepsisters announced, and the musicians began a quick-rhythmed song.

_Damn._ Eric still hadn't found Donna. He wove through the couples dancing around him. Fortunately, the ballroom hadn't filled back to capacity yet, making it easy to spot her. She was a good distance away, running toward the exit, to those double doors they'd entered from.

He closed the gap swiftly—the speed of his own legs still amazed him—and touched her shoulder. She whipped around with her fists up, like she was expecting someone else. He covered one of her fists with his hand. "Put down your dukes, Champ. It's just me."

"Eric—oh, God, Eric!" She thrust herself into his arms and hugged him, but she was trembling. "He's here! That wolf!" Then she pulled away and grabbed his wrist. "We have to get to Kelso and Fez, to warn Jackie and Hyde—!"

She was red-faced and breathing too hard. She yanked him toward the double doors, but he resisted—both her pull and her story. "Come on, think about it," he said. "What would that wolf be doing here? Kelso had taken care of him pretty well at—"

A black-haired man pushed between them and raised Eric's hackles. Something about his scent...

"Hello," the man said politely, and his eyes flashed orange.

"Holy shi—" Eric's voice caught. Donna hadn't been seeing things.

A low growl kicked up in the wolf's throat, and Eric shoved him into a portly pair of dancers—with more force than Eric thought he was capable of. The wolf became tangled up with them, and the trio crashed to the floor with the portly dancers on top, giving Eric and Donna a chance to escape.

"Donna," he said, and both of them sprinted toward the double doors, "are you sure that was the guy who tried to eat you last year? He looks different."

"Shut up and run!"

Their legs pumped and jetted them over the marble floor. A few more steps and they'd be at the exit, but they collided into two people. Eric glanced up and relief washed over him, but Donna wasn't looking. She kept moving forward.

He dragged her back and said, "Kelso and Fez." Their two friends were standing in front of the doors.

Kelso smiled. "Cool, we were just about to look for you. We had to take a breather, y'know? But we heard the announcement—"

"Kelso," Donna grasped his ears, hard enough to make him yelp, "there is a freakin' wolf after us!"

"Yeah, right!" Kelso tore Donna's hands off him. "Do you know how many people cry wolf around here to get attention?You're just jealous Hyde and Jackie won the contest—like when they won bein' Betsy's godparents. Anyway..." he pulled out his rapier and waved it around, jabbing and parrying at an invisible enemy, "no one's gonna hurt you long as I'm—"

Screams from the ballroom cut off his boast. "Wolf! Wolf!" people shouted, and the floor vibrated beneath Eric's feet. People were stampeding toward the double doors.

"Now do you believe us?" Donna said and shoved open the large doors. The ballroom guards rushed into the crowd, but she clutched Eric's suit jacket and pulled him to the marble staircase. Fez pushed Kelso in the same direction, and the four of them raced up the stairs.

"No need to worry about wolves," Fez said, looking back, "because we're going to be crushed to death."

A mob of Cinderella's guests thundered closely behind, but the four of them reached the registration chamber. They kept on running, weaving between the tables. The registrars had all been replaced by attendants and guards, and Eric's jaw clenched. How the hell had wolves gotten past them?

"Sound the alarm," Fez told one of the guards. "Wolves have infiltrated the castle."

A piercing whistle blew through the chamber, and Eric collapsed to his knees. The high-pitched sound was splitting his skull in half. He covered his ears in an attempt to block it. He couldn't do anything else as the vibration of the guests thundered closer. At least being trampled to death would mean the end to that horrific sound.

"Up you go." Kelso's arms lifted Eric into a fireman's carry. Kelso already had on a bundled pack, and his legs lost some speed with Eric's weight added to him—but, man, had Kelso gotten strong.

So had Eric, just not strong enough. No one but him seemed affected by the piercing whistle. And he was the only one of his friends who'd frozen during the Wolfsbane circle. Regardless of how he built his physical strength, little bits of weakness continued to plague him. Maybe they always would.

Beyond the registration chamber, a throng of guards flooded the narrow hallway, but Eric, Donna, Kelso, and Fez passed by without incident. Had to be Fez and Kelso's status, King of the Fourth Kingdom and his Captain of the Guard.

They arrived at the tower's spiral staircase. The whistle was less intense here, allowing Eric to recover. He told Kelso to put him down, which Kelso did, and they all started for the staircase—except for Donna.

"Oh, God, what about Jackie and Hyde?" she said.

"They are with Queen Cinderella and surrounded by more guards than you can imagine," Fez said.

"Yeah, they're safer than us," Kelso gestured for Donna to move down the stairs, "so let's haul ass!"

She nodded and led the way downstairs, with Eric right behind her _._


	15. Forever Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 15  
 **FOREVER LOST**  


Jackie and Steven held each other's hands tightly as Cinderella led them through a long, winding corridor. This castle seemed to have hidden passages everywhere. Guards spilled out from dark archways and followed them, and Jackie understood why. Cinderella was the only of the Five Great Queens still living. Despite her reclusiveness, she probably served as a symbol of prosperity to all the Nine Kingdoms.

Still, Jackie wished it were Snow White they were with. She and Eric had met her spirit in the depths of Dragon Mountain, during their first time through the mirror. Steven was gone, having run off to Laurie, and cold terror had taken his place in Jackie's heart. But Snow White's spirit was so warm, and that warmth had spread to Jackie, calming her fear.

_"You're still lost in the forest,"_ Snow White had told her, _"but lonely, lost girls like us can rescue themselves. You are standing on the edge of happiness."_

_"No, I'm not,"_ Jackie said. _"I keep trying, but I never seem to get it right."_

She thought she'd gotten it right the moment Steven put the engagement ring on her finger, but now...

Her heart pounded with every step they took down the corridor. Shivers wracked her body, and she clung to Steven's arm. Cinderella's carriage was so different than Snow White's, not just stately but rigid. Even her gestures had an edge to them. Maybe being over 200-years-old contributed to that stiffness, but Jackie wouldn't expect any warmth when Cinderella finally spoke.

They eventually reached a large braced door. The attendants were long gone, having been replaced by another pair of mannish Stepsisters, and their thick muscles tensed as they pulled on the door. It opened with some effort, a roaring scrape of metal on stone.

Cinderella led the way inside, and Jackie gasped. The room was gorgeous. Flowers of all kinds—lilacs and roses and dahlias, to name a few—grew from cracks in the stone walls. Soft grass carpeted the floor, and light poured in through stained glass windows. Where the light came from, she didn't know. It was after midnight, but the light gave the room a peaceful glow.

Sumptuous divans surrounded a cushioned glass throne. The Stepsisters guided Cinderella to sit down, and after she was seated, Cinderella dismissed everyone but Jackie and Steven. The Stepsisters objected, but Cinderella said, "You didn't win an audience with me. _They_ did."

In moments, the parlor was emptied of Stepsisters and guards, leaving Jackie and Steven standing before this woman alone. Her crystal-blue eyes focused on them, scrutinized them. And though all Jackie wanted to do was stare at Steven, to ensconce herself in the safety of his face, she stood up straighter and kept her gaze forward.

"You may sit," Cinderella said.

Jackie sat down on the closest divan, but Steven took his time. He removed the backpack from his shoulders then sat slowly while cupping Jackie's knee. It was a message to the queen: _I'm not intimidated._

_Respect her, baby,_ Jackie pleaded inwardly and squeezed his fingers, hoping he'd get the message.

"It's all right," Cinderella said, as if she'd read Jackie's mind. "My husband was the same. It's one reason I fell deeply in love with him—and why I never remarried after his passing. No one could match him." Her lips finally broke their thin, unbending line and upturned into a wrinkle-cradled smile. "Just, as I'm sure, no one could match Steven for you."

"N—no..." Jackie said and finally looked at Steven's face. His features were tense, and though her own heart beat anxiously, all she desired in that moment was to kiss his tension away. He was scared. She could always tell, regardless of how he tried to hide it. "No one will ever match him," she affirmed, brushing his cheek with her fingertips. Then she returned her attention to Cinderella. "But we're—"

"Cursed. Yes, I know." Cinderella pointed to Jackie's left hand. "That is the ring Prince Charmant gave to Snow White. I remember it well."

"Wait a sec," Steven leaned forward a little, almost like he was about to stand, "how do _you_ know we're cursed? We haven't said shit about—"

Jackie elbowed him in the side— _Really? Swearing in front of a queen?_ —and he settled back down.

"After two-hundred years," Cinderella said with no hint of annoyance, "you learn to notice a lot of 'shit' about people." She clasped her hands together and gestured at the ring again. "The diamond was cursed before, which has likely made it vulnerable to being cursed again. Oh, yes, the tale of _Prince Charmant and the Dragon_ is well known throughout the Nine Kingdoms."

Jackie stared at the sky-blue diamond. Vulnerable _to being cursed again..._ "Just like me and Steven," she said, and Steven's hand slipped from her knee and moved to her back. He edged closer to her on the divan, as if any distance between them was too much to bear right now.

"Something about you must have been curseable," Cinderella went on. "You must have a vulnerability—or _several;_ otherwise, it wouldn't have been possible."

"Super," Steven said. "So what the hell are we supposed to do about it?"

"Therein lies the good news. If the curse stems from you, it can be _broken_ by you."

Jackie's eyes widened. "How?"

Cinderella waved to the wall behind them. "See that blue flower? Rip the blossom off its stem."

From a crack between two stone bricks grew a large-petaled flower. Steven grasped the stem and snapped off the blossom, and the petals wilted in his hands. "Okay..." he said, "and this is supposed to break the curse?"

"The flower looks dead, doesn't it?" Cinderella said.

Steven and Jackie both nodded. The petals were shriveling over his fingers and blackening.

"Touch the blossom to the shredded stem."

He did, and the flower's separate parts fused back together. Color rushed into the petals, and they bloomed to their former size.

"The flower," Jackie said, breathless, "it's—it's sticking from the wall again... like Steven had never torn it!"

"True love cannot be truly destroyed," Cinderella said, "without the _root_ of it being destroyed. Why do you think you two keep returning to each other?"

Jackie froze. "How do you know that?"

Cinderella smiled again and primped her bejeweled red hair. "Two-hundred years-old, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah, that's great," Steven said, "but this lovey-dovey crap ain't gonna help us. My chick looks like Big Rhonda dove into her mouth—" Jackie glared at him. "Whatever. What's the bottom line here? Are we totally screwed or what?"

"Just as life remained in the flower when ripped from its roots, so does hope remain for you." Cinderella gestured for Jackie to come forward. She did so with Steven right behind her, and Cinderella took hold of her left hand. "It is the dragon's life force that gave the original curse power." Cinderella turned Jackie's hand so the ring sparkled in the room's light. "Prince Charmant may have only wounded the dragon, not slain it. A possibility exists that it has healed by now."

"You sayin' we gotta kill a fucking dragon?" Steven said, and his breath grew rough in Jackie's ear. His ability to distance himself emotionally, his _Zen,_ seemed to be only half-working.

"No," Cinderella said. "If it _is_ alive, you simply need to return the ring to the dragon's hoard—and escape before the dragon senses you. The cavern dwells in the Ninth Kingdom, but not where the Dwarves make their home. I suspect King Fez will know where the entrance lies."

"And if the dragon's dead?" Jackie said.

"Find out who cursed you. This is a powerful spell, woven with powerful magic. Very few are capable of such a feat." Cinderella let go of Jackie's hand, and her crystal-blue eyes shut. She appeared tired, but when her eyes opened again, they were full of empathy. "Love can conquer much, but much can conquer love."

Jackie reached behind her and clutched Steven's jacket. "Like death?"

"Like _ourselves,_ " Cinderella said. "If the dragon is dead, then someone has unleashed this curse upon you—by using your own vulnerabilities to weave the spell."

"Who would want to curse us?" Jackie said. Pressure was building behind her eyes, and her throat had grown tight. "Who would—who would get in the way of true love?"

"Those who aren't capable of it..." Cinderella touched the first tear to escape down Jackie's cheek, "or those who have forever lost it."

* * *

A crowd had swarmed around Fez outside Cinderella's castle—with Kelso, Donna, and Eric squashed along with him. The full moon was shining high above them in the dark sky, and Eric felt strangely amused. They'd escaped that wolf in the ballroom, only to be crushed to death by Fez's fans.

The crowd had forgotten their previous panic, and people begged Fez for autographs. They clutched at his hair and golden sash, and they asked questions from the serious, " _Are you handing Gretel's realm to Queen Riding Hood?_ " to the inane, " _Is the Candy and Pie Expo still going to happen? Because I've got this incredible pecan pie I intend on submitting..._ "

"Oh, yes. The Pie and Candy Expo is still on," Fez said even as the crowd squeezed in tighter, and Eric stared at him in disbelief. Why the hell wasn't he doing something to get them to back off? Eric could barely breathe with all the bodies pressing in on him.

He tried slipping into a small gap between two Elves, but Kelso's elbow struck his face. The blow momentarily stunned him. Then Kelso's elbow struck him again, this time in the chest.

"Hey!" Eric shouted. Kelso's left arm was partially bent, jerking about as his right hand shoved into his pants' pocket. His elbow swung toward Eric's neck next, but Donna grabbed it before he connected.

"What are you doing?" she said.

"Pulling out my nuts!" Kelso said. His other hand was deep in his pants' pocket now.

"Kelso!" She moved to frog him, but the crowd surged, crushing from them their last bits of personal space. Fez's cheek pressed into Eric's right shoulder, and Eric's other shoulder jammed itself into Kelso's armpit.

"My _magic_ nuts," Kelso clarified. "They're magic, Donna. Damn!"

Fez's voice vibrated into Eric's shoulder. "Kelso I do not think you should—"

But Kelso's free hand grabbed Eric's thigh above the knee. "Everyone hold onto me!" He waited a moment. "Everyone got me?"

Eric, Donna, and Fez all shouted in the affirmative, and Kelso's body jerked. Eric couldn't see what Kelso was doing, just the eager, desperate faces of the people clawing at them...

And then they vanished, swallowed up by a green, dusty darkness.

Eric coughed on the dust. The ground had risen up and enveloped him—and, presumably, Donna, Fez, and Kelso, too. But his eyes were effectively blind, and his body pitched forward in the green darkness. He instinctively tucked his chin and knees to his chest. His body was flipping over and over— _what the_ _hell had Kelso done?_ —and a loud _whoosh!_ accompanied the somersaults.

His calves crashed into something, and his body swung backward. His stomach lurched, blood rushed to his head, and now the moon was in his eyes—

He was earthy scent of bark seeped into his nose. He reached up. Textures both rough and smooth scraped his palms—twigs and leaves. He'd landed in a damn tree. He was swinging upside-down from a thick branch.

He grasped the branch to stop himself from moving, and his head angled as far back as it could. Donna and Fez were picking themselves out of some bushes, but Kelso was standing below him on the ground, looking quite satisfied with himself.

"It worked! It totally worked!" Kelso laughed and peered up at Eric. "Hey, what're you doing up there?"

"Why don't _you_ tell _me,_ Kelso?"

"The nuts I threw came from that tree. It's magic—"

"Really? I never would've guessed. Could you help me down?" Eric's head had grown heavy from the blood pooling in it, and he reached toward Kelso.

Kelso spread out his arms. "Just drop. I'll catch you."

It was eleven feet from the branch to Kelso's arms. Sixteen feet from the branch to the ground. The distances were obvious. Eric didn't know how they were; they just were. He inhaled a deep, steadying breath. "Here goes nothing..."

His legs relaxed, and he slipped off the branch. His stomach lurched again with the fall, but he landed safely in Kelso's arms.

"See? No problem," Kelso said and lowered Eric to his feet. "Anyway, the magic nuts'll always bring you to the oak they came from. Too bad the acorns aren't in season yet. Those were my last ones."

Donna and Fez joined them at the tree. The full moon gave Eric enough light to see by. In fact, more than enough. The moon was like one of Red's Maglight flashlights. Eric could more than make out who was whom. Even the color of Donna's teal dress was distinguishable against the dark of the woods.

"Whatever you do," Fez said, "do not turn your head to look around. If you must look behind you, use your whole body."

"What? Why?" Eric said. His voice sounded higher than usual, frightened. He stuck his hands into his pants pockets. He didn't want Donna to think he was frightened by the forest—but his breath hitched at what he found in his pockets: nothing.

He dropped to his knees. Scattered among the oak's roots and dirt were Laurie's seeds. He gathered them up.

"What are you doing?" Donna said.

"Just a second, Donna." He counted as he picked up the seeds. Laurie had given him 23 seeds, but he found only 19. "Kelso," he stood up with the seeds in his hand, "do you have a spare pouch or something in that pack of yours?"

Kelso pulled the pack off his shoulders, and Donna said, "Yeah, and some scissors or a knife. I have to cut my dress shorter. I can't believe I'm stuck here in this thing. And in these freakin' heels!"

"Oh, I'll cut your dress with my sword," Kelso said, a little too happily for Eric's liking, but Fez pulled a small dagger from his boot and handed it to her.

She leaned against the oak and sliced the dress at her knees. "Fez, why can't we move our heads to look backward? And, Eric, are you gonna tell me _now_ what those seeds are?"

"Nope," Eric said. Kelso had given him a small, drawstring pouch. Exactly what he needed. Eric dropped the seeds into the pouch and stuffed it inside his pants pocket. He couldn't tell Donna about Laurie yet—or what she'd said about his family. The time just wasn't right. Maybe when they were back in Fez's kingdom, at a large banquet table with a barely-dead lamb on their plates.

"If you twist your head to see behind you," Fez said, "the forest in front of you could change, and we could all get separated. It is very easy to get lost in these woods. So remember, _turn your whole body._ "

"Got it," Donna said. Her dress was significantly shorter now and raggedly cut. Not elegant, but the new length would give her legs the freedom to run, and Eric suspected they'd all be running really soon.

He glanced up at the moon. "Fez, just tell me, are there any Gypsies, insane Woodsmen, or murderous Huntsmen in this forest?

"No, but we must keep moving forward. It is a full moon. If the wolves come after us, they'll likely be in their most dangerous state."

"You mean, they'll be actual wolves," Donna said, and she slid her fingers around Eric's arm. He felt the fear in her body, _smelled_ it.

"Yeah," Kelso said, "but they're dangerous in any state—or kingdom. Or city... or village... or township—"

Fez put up his hand. "Yes, thank you, Kelso." Then he looked at Eric and Donna with such intensity that Eric shuddered. "Do not be fooled, though. Even when wolves look like us, they are to be avoided. Their teeth are as sharp as their hostility toward non-wolves. They can kill a man easily even on two legs and without their larger fangs."

"And they _will_ kill," Kelso added. "I've seen it."

Donna's fingers dug into Eric's arm. Their discussion had to be terrifying her. He kissed her cheek softly and whispered, "Hey, we'll be fine, okay?" She nodded, but she probably believed him as much as he did himself.

Fez sighed and shook his head. "It's the recent strife in the Second Kingdom. Since I temporarily rule the southern half, the wolves probably have demands. The northern half is notoriously anti-wolf—"

"I can understand why," Donna said.

"—and they've long had safe haven in the south." Fez turned to Kelso. "Did you bring any Wolfsbane with you?"

"No, but this forest is ripe with their flowers. We should be able to make enough pebbles to take down any wolf pack.

Fez and Kelso lowered their voices and spoke to each other in a manner Eric had never expected: familiar and professional at once. Their relationship had grown beyond two doofuses in the basement, and a pang of loss stung Eric's chest. It was like an invisible wall stretched between him and his old friends, between his life before the mirror and afterward. He ached to return to that simplicity, as he was sure Hyde and Jackie did—

"Hyde and Jackie," he said, echoing his thoughts, but Donna stole the question right from his mouth.

"We agreed to meet by your coach if we got separated," she said. "What if they—"

"They should be safe in Cinderella's castle," Fez said, "and Cinderella will keep them that way. We must go to the Fifth Kingdom. This forest lies between it and Cinderella's. Wolves will be waiting for us if we try to return to..."

Eric's skin prickled with gooseflesh, and the hairs of his nape raised. A wolf was howling in the distance. No one seemed to hear it but him—none of his _friends,_ at least. The forest floor was skittering with activity. Rabbits darted past the oak, and a deer ran off with its fawn.

Kelso was laughing. "Wolves never go to the Fifth Kingdom."

"Why not?" Donna said.

Eric started pulling her forward. "Guys," he said, "I just heard a wolf," and she stiffened beside him—but only for a moment.

They rushed ahead together through the trees, and Kelso said, "No way." He was keeping pace with them. "You're just spooked by what happened back there."

"We can't take that chance." Fez raced forward, too, also matching their pace. "Once we are safe in the Fifth Kingdom, we'll communicate with my men and contact Jackie and Hyde."

He offered an encouraging smile. Maybe it was a kingly thing to do, an attempt to bolster moral, but Eric's fear increased ten-fold as another wolf howled.

"Don't let go of my hand," Donna whispered, as if she'd heard it, too.

Eric tightened his hold on her. "Never."

* * *

Hyde wasn't pleased with Cinderella's information or advice. Too many variables floated around with not enough time to sort them out. But at least he and Jackie had some direction now.

Jackie knelt in the grass serving as a rug and bowed before Cinderella's throne. She tugged on Hyde's jeans to make him to the same. He couldn't. It just wasn't his way. Jackie usually remembered that about him, but he gave her a pass. Neither of them were at their best right now.

"Thank you so much, Your Highness," she said. Her head bent toward Cinderella's glass-slippered feet. "We—

The Ugly Stepsisters slammed open the door and burst into the room, and a guard pushed his way between them. He had the same kind of badges pinned to his jacket as Kelso. Probably Cindy's Captain of the Guard.

"Wolves infiltrated the castle," the captain said, and Cinderella rose from the throne, "but we drove them out."

Jackie shot to her feet and clung to Hyde's side. "Wolves?" she whispered.

The captain nodded. "Unfortunately, we couldn't round any of them up for questioning, but the castle is secured."

"Thank you, Cathan," Cinderella said. She stepped toward him, and the Stepsisters hovered by her shoulders, as if expecting her to fall. "Was anybody injured?"

"A few of our soldiers but nothing mortal."

"Oh, God—" Jackie covered her mouth, "what about Donna and Eric?" She turned to Cathan. "Did you see King Fez or Michael—Sir Kelso? Are they still here?"

"We believe they fled the castle."

"Shit." Hyde grasped Jackie's hand and led her toward the door. A troop of guards, outfitted in pale blue, was waiting outside in the winding hallway. "We gotta go," he said as a courtesy, but Cinderella was right behind him. She might have been over two-hundred, but she was spry.

"Go where?" she said. "King Fez is likely on his way back to the Fourth Kingdom with your friends. I can provide a coach—"

"Thanks, but no thanks." He glanced at her. She meant well, and he appreciated it, but... "We got a plan to meet-up at _Fez's_ coach. Forman's gonna be crapping his pants if we don't get our asses there."

Jackie's voice shook. "What if—what if they left already?"

"They didn't."

" _I_ would have," Jackie said.

"Whatever," he said, ending the discussion. She didn't know herself half the time, or how freakin' generous she could be, but now wasn't the time to explain it to her. "Listen, Cindy—Cinderel— _Your Highness,_ if some of your guards could give us an escort...?"

Cinderella reached out and rubbed his arm, a gesture he never would've expected from her. Her eyes were warm, too, as if they'd found something familiar in him. "Of course."

* * *

Six guards accompanied Hyde and Jackie out of the castle. The night wasn't too cold or too dark. Plenty of the castle's windows were lit, and the moon was full. They had to get to the stables where the coach was parked, but they only made it as far as the barracks.

So had the coach.

It was upturned on the cobblestone road and blocking their way. The horses were nowhere. Neither was the driver—or their friends—and Hyde reflexively put his body in front of Jackie's.

"Steven, what are we supposed to do?" she said.

A growl answered her.

A pack of wolves, _real_ wolves with four damn legs and snarling teeth, stepped out from behind the barracks building. They were all brown except for the one out in front, which was black. The alpha male, _the leader._

"Get behind us!" one of the guards shouted. His rapier was out, as were those of the others.

Hyde pulled Jackie back down the cobblestone road just as the wolves pounced on the guards. The black one knocked a guard to the ground. Its jaws snapped open before the man could respond and viciously tore out his neck.

"No!" Jackie cried. The guard's body was convulsing as his blood sprayed out in pulses.

She buried her head in Hyde's chest, but he yanked her into a run. No fucking time for emotion. They couldn't go back to the castle, either. The entrance was too far away now. Their only option was to run and run and run.

They passed into some kind of garden. Hard pavement had given way to soft dirt, and Jackie slowed down. "I can't, baby... I just—I can't. Not with this body. I'm... I'm gonna throw up."

He stuck two fingers to her neck. Her pulse pounded against him like a tiny boxer, miniscule fists punching his skin. Couldn't have been easy running in those heels, either, or that dress.

A deep howl cut through the air. It was joined by too many others. The wolves must have offed the rest of the guards.

"Guess who's next?" he said. "Kick off your damn shoes."

She did, and he maneuvered them around flower bushes and across a field of tall grass until they hit stone wall.

"It's the..." Jackie was out of breath, "it's the castle's boundary."

The wall wasn't too high here. Reachable. He wrapped his arms around Jackie's legs. She screamed, but he hefted her onto the top of the wall. He jumped up himself as another howl rang out, but he didn't make it. His fingers barely scraped the top of the wall. He needed another half-foot, something to stand on before jumping...

Like his backpack.

He yanked it off his shoulders and ripped open the zipper. He wrenched out Jackie's boots, and their clothes flew into his face. He raised the boots up to her. "Take these—take 'em!"

The boots disappeared from his hands, and he pulled his joints from the backpack— _priorities, man..._ He wished he could take the condoms, too.

"Steven, come on!"

He stuffed the clothes into the backpack again then dropped the backpack to the ground. He stood on it, bent his legs, and sprang into the air. His hands grabbed hold of the wall's top edge, fingertips digging into the surface. His booted feet used the stone bricks for traction, and he hauled himself up.

"Now what?" Jackie said. She'd finished lacing up her boots.

He gazed over the other side of the wall. Trees rose up against the night sky. "Now we go into that forest."

"No!" Her nails scratched at his hand as he prepared to drop to the ground. "No," she repeated, "I don't want to—"

Too late. He scooted off the wall and landed on the other side. "Your turn."

Whimpering, she rolled onto her stomach. Her legs dangled over the wall. He grabbed them and eased her to the ground. Then he kissed her mouth—deeper than he should have, longer than he should have in these circumstances—but it would probably have to last them a while.

They broke into a run again, and it was easier on both of them. The ground sloped down. They were on a hill, and in moments they hit the trees. The forest canopy grew dense as they plunged further into the woods. It stole whatever vision the moonlight had given him.

"Where are we going, Steven? Where are we going?" Jackie was frantic, shrieking. She never did do quiet well, especially when their lives were at stake.

"Away from the wolves. Shut your trap," he said, and squeezed her hand to bring home the point, but the damage was done. A growl rumbled in the woods behind them. The wolves were on their trail and really close.

No giant beanstalks stretched into the sky to climb. No time to dig a hole in the ground and hide, but he wasn't giving up. His eyes had adjusted to the dark, and he searched for a decent tree as they ran. Something tall enough, climbable enough—

A bush or tree rustled behind them. "Oh, God," Jackie said, and her hair brushed against his cheek, as if she were twisting her head to see what had made the sound.

Dizziness broke into his skull and whirled him around. He gripped Jackie's hand harder—he couldn't lose her, man—but as quickly as the dizziness came, it dissipated.

"What just—what just happened?" Jackie said and hugged his arm to her chest. "Steven, where did the trees go?"

The moon shone above them now with no interference from a leafy canopy, and Hyde's eyes scanned the area. Thick forest no longer surrounded them. They'd been shunted to some kind of clearing. Fat blades of grass covered the ground, as high as his knees.

"I was just looking back, like this," she said, and another bout of dizziness hit him. His fingers tightened over her palm, and everything grew dark again when the dizziness relented. The forest's canopy had returned, blocking out most of the moonlight

"Would you quit doing that?" he said.

"This forest must be magic."

"No shit." But whatever had happened, they seemed to have escaped the wolves for now. He bent down at Jackie's feet and tugged on the skirt of her dress. "How loose is this thing?"

She batted his hands away. "I can run fine in it. Snow White's wardrobe is very functional..." Then she stamped her foot and grunted. "How could you bring us here, Steven? I swore to myself I'd never go to another forest again."

"What else did you want," he said, straightening up, "for us to become wolf bait?" He took her hand again and moved them forward.

"We're gonna die here," she said.

"No, we're not. We didn't croak in the Beanstalk Forest. Didn't bite it in the Thousand-Mile Forest. We'll make it outta this one, too."

They walked through the woods, and they did their best to use the stars for guidance. Hyde couldn't see too many through the canopy, but thinking about it—or their lame chances of survival—wouldn't help them any. The sun had to rise eventually. If they could make it to daylight, they might just make it to safety.   
  
Jackie tugged on his hand. "If you'd accepted my proposal the first time, we wouldn't be in this mess."

"What?"

"When I got offered the job in Chicago. If you'd known you wanted to marry me—"

"Didn't we go over this crap over in Kissing Town?"

_"Yes,"_ she said moistly. She'd begun to cry. "But if I don't talk about something distracting, I'm gonna keep seeing that guard—"

Yeah, he got it. Watching that guard get slaughtered hadn't done him any favors, either. "Okay... but let's pick a more interesting topic. Like how once we're back in Fez's castle, I'm gonna keep my mouth on your nipples 'til I've sucked all the words outta you—"

"Steven!"

He snickered, but she didn't seem to appreciate his dirty talk. Usually, this was the point where she'd join in.

She tugged on his hand again. "Why did you keep hitting on my mom when she came back from Mexico? You knew how badly she'd hurt me. In fact, you seemed angrier about it than I was, and then she's back in Point Place, and you're drooling all over her."

"First, I don't drool over anything. Second, the answer's complicated."

"Tell me."

A rough sigh pushed out of him, and the sound seem to extend beyond him into the woods. The air was colder here, too, and as they walked forward, droplets of water landed on his skin. He knelt down in the dark and kept an arm around Jackie's calves. Then he patted the ground until his fingers landed in something wet. They must have reached a brook.

"We gotta cross this thing," he said but didn't know how wide or deep it was. "Jackie, stay put—and don't look backward."

He searched among the closest trees and found one with a long, low-hanging branch. He stood on his toes, grasped the branch, and pushed down on it until it snapped. It was about three feet long and would have to do. He returned to Jackie's side.

"I'm gonna try to measure the water's depth and see how wide it is," he said. He knelt by the brook again and dipped the branch into the water. It hit the rocky ground in less than a foot. "Cool..." They'd have no trouble crossing—long as it wasn't super-wide and got deeper. He stretched the branch ahead of him and hit the opposite bank. "Only a few feet across."

"How did you know how to do that?" Jackie said.

"Forman," he stood up and grasped her hand, "otherwise known as 'Johnny Cub Scout'."

They began to cross the brook. Water rushed over his boots but didn't seep in. He hoped Jackie's were water resistant, too, but he doubted it.

"So you taught him something sexy like picking locks, and he taught you something nerdy like measuring a creek?"

"Yup." They made it to the other side, but he stopped her from going forward. "Maybe we should take a drink."

"Out of that? It's dirty forest water."

"It's not stagnant."

"I don't care. Animals poop in there. The last thing we need is a disease."

"Can't start a fire to boil it—"

Her breath hitched. "You don't have your lighter?".

"No, I do, but I don't wanna give those wolves any clue where we are."

"Oh." She jerked his arm. "Let's go, okay?"

Despite his thirst, he relented. They walked on, and after a while, the trees started to thin. A good sign. Maybe they were reaching the end of the woods already.

Jackie tugged on his hand a third time. "You saw my mom's breasts and liked it. What's so complicated about that?

"Come on—"

"Did you want to suck on her nipples, too?"

"Fuck, Jackie, knock it off."

"No," she said and pressed herself closer to his arm. "You hide so much from me, and if we're going to die, I'd like to know a little more about you before that happens."

"We're not gonna fucking die, and I don't hide shit from you." Annoyance was growing through him like mold. He tried to scrape it off, but she was making it damn difficult.

"Oh, whatever, Steven. You never told me you could measure a creek."

"Who the hell figured I'd ever have to do that?"

"Or that you know how to make origami or..."

The more she pushed him, the more he felt tempted to grab at every branch they passed and break it off. But last year in the Thousand-Mile Forest, the Huntsman had found them through snapped twigs. Giving the wolves that kind of help wasn't on his agenda. The solution was lousy, but the only way to make Jackie shut up about this crap was to give her want she wanted.

"Yeah, okay," he said, "I got caught up in the idea your mom wanted me—" Jackie's fingers went limp in his hand. "But not for the reason you think, man. I actually hated that I saw 'em. Things were going really well between you and me, and I used her to..."

"To what, Steven?"

"Get some distance."

"Excuse me?"

They'd arrived at another clearing—or maybe it was the same one they'd been shunted to before, when Jackie had looked backward. The tall grass was a giveaway. _Damn it._ Not the place he'd hoped the thinning woods would lead to. But at least they had some light now, and he checked his watch. Wasn't even 4:00 A.M. yet. Sunrise wouldn't be for another three hours.

Jackie flicked his earlobe. "I said, _'Excuse me'._ "

His stomach clenched. Her freakin' fingers and their earlobe-flicking. "It's like _I_ said: I used her. Me and you were getting too close, and that was the safest way I could think of to put some distance between us."

"Huh."

"Yeah."

"So instead of cheating on me, you flirted with my mom, ogled her breasts—good plan, _'Puddin'._ "

That wasn't happy "Puddin'." It was a pissed-off one. _Great._ He was as likely to escape this conversation unscathed as they were this forest.

They made their way across the clearing, but traversing the tall grass wasn't easy. Their steps were slow, and they had to keep pushing aside the thicker tufts. "Remember when we were sitting in the Formans' kitchen," he said, "after _it_ happened. Your mom touched me, and I almost jumped outta the seat. You know why?"

"Because you were thinking about her taught, pink, perfect Burkhart nipples?"

_"No._ 'Cause every crappy thing she'd ever done to you had smashed into my skull. I was trying to play the whole thing off like a damn joke, tried to convince myself it _was_ a joke—but when she touched me, I was..."

A patch of particularly tall and stiff grass stood in their way. He needed both hands to push it aside, but Jackie held back his arm. "You were what?" she said.

_Disgusted,_ he wanted to say. _Fucking ashamed._ But he couldn't give that to her. Who the hell knew how she'd use it to her advantage in the future—if they lived to see their future.

"I was done," he said, and she let him push the grass aside.

They approached the trees leading back to the denser forest, but she dug her heels into the ground. "Can't we stay here until the sun rises?"

"No." He wrenched her forward. "It's too open. We'd be an easy target."

"It's almost pitch-black in there. I can't see anything,".

His fingers grew stiff around her palm. "I wish I couldn't _hear_ anything."

"Fine."

They reentered the woods without further argument. Their near-blindness beneath the leafy canopy didn't thrill him either, but what choice did they have? He listened for clues, for _anything_ that could tell him what direction to go in. Branches rustled above them, and the underbrush _shushed_ around their legs. Had to be squirrels or foxes or whatever-the-hell small animals lived here. Long as they weren't wolves, he didn't care. But hearing all those sounds meant Jackie was maintaining her silence.

He'd hurt her, but he had no time to feel bad about it. Keeping them both safe was more important.

A few minutes later or maybe longer—he couldn't really tell—she shouted, "Watch it! You led me into a turd!" Then she sank back into quiet. Another few minutes, and she said, "My feet are already soaked and cold. I don't need them to stink, too." That was what a Jackie-Burkhart silent treatment was like, a couple minutes of silence then an outburst. More silence and another outburst. He would've laughed if they weren't in so much danger.

"Look," he said, "all we need to do is get out of this forest, find a village or a town, and tell whoever's in charge who we are. That ring of yours will prove it. They'll contact Fez, and we'll be cool."

She didn't answer, not verbally and not with any kind of body language. It was as if she hadn't heard him.

_Whatever._ Her hissy fit was the least of their , time and the trees all blended into a blur. Were they walking in freakin' circles? The sky didn't seem to be any brighter, and his watch was useless in the dark. Counting the ticks only made his mind hazier. But if he went by his tired body, the ache of his feet inside his boots, they'd been walking at least an hour. Jackie yawned beside him, as if confirming his theory.

"You want me to carry you," he said, "so you can take a nap?"

She said nothing. Not even another yawn.

Maybe she thought he was being sarcastic. He couldn't rid his voice of its edge, but that wasn't from her. Being in this forest, being _cursed,_ and seeing that guard get killed so brutally... His free hand slipped to the inner pocket of his jacket. His joints were safely stashed there. What he wouldn't give to spark one up right now.

"I'm serious, man. Backpack's gone, so hop on."

She still said nothing.

"Jackie, would you cut the crap already?"

She finally responded by loosing her fingers from his grasp and repositioning them over his wrist. "Not until you admit the dulcet sound of my voice drives you wild with passion—and you can't live without it."

He shook his head, "No. The price is too high," and she huffed. "Listen, I hate freakin' forests as much as you. Just—what do you want us to do?"

"I—" A howl, loud and high-pitched, interrupted her answer. The wolves must've been tracking them the whole damn time. "Wanna run!"

They bolted through a prickly bramble, between two broad tree trunks, and got caught in some dense underbrush. He glanced around, hoping to find a clear escape route, but his sight was worthless here.

"Steven—" Jackie's voice died, and she became rigid beside him. A pair of marble-sized, orange lights was floating in front of them. Two more pairs joined it, followed by too many more. They weren't fireflies.

They were wolf eyes.


	16. A Deadly Bluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 16  
 **A DEADLY BLUFF**  


It had been at least an hour since they'd been traveling in the woods, and Donna hadn't heard a wolf. Neither had Eric, it seemed, not since the first one he claimed to have heard. But he kept staring up at the moon as if it could give him some advice.

Their hands remained linked as they walked. Eric had grown so much stronger since their first time through the mirror, and she felt a lot safer with him this time than she did then. How he'd shoved that wolf away at the Glass Slipper Ball, the power in his body and his quick reflexes—he was more than capable of protecting himself physically now... and maybe that meant she could have a weak moment once in a while.

Kelso was leading the way through the trees—with Fez at his side and Eric's help. Kelso knew this forest pretty well, apparently, and Eric seemed to think they had as much light as if it were dawn. But it was the dead of night. Donna's couldn't see much except dark blurs against darker blurs. So she concentrated on the sound of their steps, how their legs moved through the underbrush. Her exposed calves were getting scratched up, and her bare feet had sunk into unpleasant textures she didn't want to identify. But at least there weren't any Trolls here or a crazy Huntsman.

The night wasn't particular cold, but she shuddered anyway. God,she hoped Fez was right, that it would be a simple thing to get back to his kingdom. She and Eric didn't belong in this world. It was such a mistake coming here for their honeymoon. She'd wanted Eric to find some closure about Laurie's death, some peace. Instead, they found themselves in danger once again.

"Guys," Kelso stopped them, "I think we should set up camp."

"Yes, I agree," Fez said. "It should not take more than a day to get to the Fifth Kingdom—as long as we don't turn our heads to look backwards." He yawned, and above the dark blur of his head, two smaller blurs raised up as if he were stretching his arms. "Sleepies."

"Um..." Donna glanced around uselessly, making sure to turn her whole body, "is this place safe? You know, from the wolves?"

"Oh, no place in this forest is safe from the wolves," Kelso said, "not with that full moon over us. But we'll take turns on watch. I'll go first, and in the morning, we'll get ourselves some kick-ass Wolfsbane. They won't stand a chance."

Donna intended to squeeze Eric's hand, but his fingers had slipped from her. "Eric?"

"Just gathering some leaves and stuff," he said below her.

"For what?"

"Our bed. It's the second night of our honeymoon—"

She scoffed. "If you think we're doing it here, you're nuts."

"Donna, this is your king," Fez said, "and I command you to do it with Eric... while I watch."

Right. At least he hadn't said, "While I participate."

Donna glared in his general direction. "You're not my king, Fez. You're my friend. And—no. You wouldn't be able to see anything anyway." She reached down and touched Eric's shoulder. He was still collecting material for their bed. "Eric," she said, "I appreciate your enthusiasm, but it's not gonna happen."

"Hey, don't shut him down, Donna," Kelso said. "We can still hear you two doin' it."

"No, she's right," Eric said with a sigh. He was finally standing beside her again. "The way we go at it, we're sure to attract the wolves."

"Eric!" She smacked his shoulder. "Would you stop saying things like that already?"

He laughed, which made her laugh. Even in as much trouble as they were in, he could still lighten her spirits. Her hand glided up the front of his dress shirt. His tie was long gone, but she grasped his collar and pulled his face toward her lips. She kissed him, finding his mouth by her sense of touch, and tried to tell him silently how much she loved him, that she'd married the right man.

"Are they making love?" Fez said.

"I think they are," Kelso said.

"Ooh, and they're standing up. Very erotic."

A few minutes later, Donna and Eric were snuggled together on their makeshift bed of grass and leaves. Fez had lay down down close by, but not too close, and Kelso was sitting on a tree stump or a fallen log—she couldn't tell which. Her heart was beating so frenetically that her thoughts overwhelmed her. Concentrating on anything else was impossible.

Magic that turned men into dogs or made a person invisible seemed almost normal to her now. Her real life, with its mundane tasks like washing the dishes and studying for tests, had become the fairy tale. She ached desperately to get back to it.

But even if she and Eric returned to Fez's kingdom without too much trouble, even if they could go home through the mirror, Jackie and Hyde were stuck in the Nine Kingdoms until they broke their curse. How could she and Eric abandon them?

They couldn't.

* * *

Hyde had put everything on the line to save their lives the last time they were here, not to mention the lives of all the Nine Kingdoms'. She and Eric owed him and Jackie all the help they could give.

"Hey," Eric's arm closed around her waist tighter, and his face nuzzled into her neck, "is this how you pictured our honeymoon?"

"No... Eric, I'm so sorry—"

"Donna, no. I'm the one who's sorry. It was my idea—"

"Only because I suggested it."

"Let's just call it even then," he said, and she heard him smiling. "So, for our one-year anniversary, how's a trip to Chicago sound?"

She rubbed the top of his hand and returned his smile honestly. "Sounds great."

Hyde pulled Jackie behind him as the wolves' glowing eyes closed in on them, but she squeezed his hand and said, "Hold on," as if she had some kind if plan.

"Jackie?" He kept a tight grip on her and backed them up through the thick underbrush.

"Damn it!" she whispered. "Why isn't it working?"

"Why isn't what working?"

"That thing," she said. "I keep turning my head—"

He understood. She was trying to make the forest shunt them off to a different part. "Great. When you need magic to work, it bails on ya."

She brought herself back to his side. "Hey," she shouted at the glowing eyes,"why don't you wolves face us as people? Are you half-human or half-cowards?"

Hyde hooked his arm over her mouth. He had to shut her up, but even with forty extra pounds on her, she was nimble. She gave him the slip.

"What do you—" her shrill voice cracked, "what do you want?"

"Who cares?" he said and thrust himself in front of her. Despite her provocation, the wolves weren't growling as far as he could hear. Maybe reasoning with them was the way to go. "Listen," he said, "I know you guys get a bad rap, but if you want people to get a different opinion of wolves, not attacking us would be a good start."

"Yeah!" Jackie added. "We're friends of King Fez—"

Damn it. That wasn't the kind of info to spill out. A fact like that would put them in even more danger.

A pair of orange eyes disappeared as if they'd closed, or maybe the wolf had turned its head away from them. The other orange eyes stopped their forward movement, but the first pair reappeared much closer than before. Hyde couldn't back him and Jackie off fast enough, and then the wolf pounced on them.

But it didn't attack. It didn't snarl. Something warm and wet touched his the top of Hyde's hand—the wolf's nose? Was it sniffing him?

Jackie hugged Hyde's waist and whimpered into his back as the wolf moved onto her. The image of powerful jaws ripping out her throat flashed through his mind. It pumped adrenaline into him, more than his body could handle. He was shaking—and he never shook—but the wolf seemed more interested in her smell, and the shift in its attention gave him an opening.

Attacking the wolf outright wouldn't work. He didn't want to provoke its buddies to respond in kind. He had to play this smart. His fingertips dipped into his jacket pocket and found the dishrag. He unfolded it and grasped the Wolfsbane pebble inside.

His hand tingled at the contact. The pebble had over-sensitized his skin, and wild laughter would come next if he didn't make his move.

"Hey, wolfie," he said, and more than its orange eyes trained on him. A subtle push of air disturbed the hairs on Hyde's knuckles. The wolf was stepping toward him. "Yeah," he brought his arm back, "I don't like it when dogs touch my chick," and smashed the wolf between the eyes with the Wolfsbane.

The pebble burst into powder, part of it on Hyde's palm, flushing his arm with sensation and his belly with laughter—but the wolf's eyes went dark, followed by a thump onto the dirt. Its rigid, paralyzed body must have hit the ground.

"Steven, what did you do?" Jackie whispered, but he had no time to answer. The rest of the wolves were advancing on them.

"Who's next?" He stuck his hand into his pocket as if he had more Wolfsbane. It was a bluff, one they could easily call. They didn't. They stopped in their tracks, some of them whining and whimpering. "That's right," he said. "You're gonna let us walk out of here, or you're all gonna end up... end up..."

The words were tickling his brain, just as everything was tickling his body—the air, Jackie's chest pressed against him, his own breaths. It was the damn Wolfsbane powder. He wiped his palm on his jeans, hoping the crap would wear off sooner than later.

"You're—you're all gonna end up like your boss," he spat out between laughs. To emphasize his point, he pulled his fist from his pocket and made to throw a non-existent Wolfsbane pebble at them. The wolves backed away in response, and their glowing eyes clustered together as if they were afraid, but they didn't run off. They probably wouldn't abandon their leader.

It didn't matter long as they let him and Jackie go. He turned around so she was in front of him, pushed her ahead, and whispered, "Go, go!" They cut through the thick underbrush, went back between the broad trees, but avoided the prickly bramble.

The wolves didn't follow.

Once he and Jackie were some distance along, a prolonged and dry sound reached them, as if the wolves were dragging their paralyzed leader away. The sound faded, and Hyde touched Jackie's shoulder. He couldn't see her expression in the dark, but it must have looked the same as his, and they collapsed into each other with relief.

* * *

Steven was laughing and clutching at Jackie's hips, laying kisses on the nape of her neck—and she wanted him to cut it out. They were in the middle of the damn forest. They'd escaped the wolves thanks to his quick thinking, but now she had to take charge. In his weirdo, drugged-out state, he was almost useless.

His teeth grazed her earlobe, and she slapped his chest. "Steven! Now is not the time. The wolves could change their mind—"

"They won't," he said and pushed her up against a tree. His lips glided along her jawline. His hand cupped her breast, and she shoved it off. "Come on, Grasshopper..." he pressed his denim-covered arousal into her thigh, "remember what we did the last time we were in a forest?"

"And if you ever want to do that with me again, anywhere," she slipped beneath his arm and grabbed it, "you won't try it now." She yanked him forward, and it seemed to sober him up a little. He'd stopped pawing at her, at least.

"You're a fucking drag sometimes, you know?" He laughed and shuffled his feet.

"Oh, you did not just call me that." Her hand shot out and pinched his nipple through his shirt. He cried out, but she twisted his nipple up instead of letting go. With his extra-sensitivity, her pinch had to hurt terribly.

"I thought..." He grasped her wrist so tightly she had to release him. "I thought you didn't wanna do that now."

She groaned, but he shut up except for the occasional chuckle. The sky finally seemed to be getting brighter, or maybe the tears rimming her eyes had created an illusion. Lost in the woods, hunted by wolves, and now he'd called her a drag. Is that what he truly thought of her? She angled her head around to look at him, and a bout of vertigo exploded in her skull.

Her eyes shut against it, but the dizziness passed swiftly—and when she opened her eyes again, Steven was on his knees, puking by her feet.

"Oh, no..." She covered her mouth. Expansive bushes and shrubby trees now surrounded them.

They'd been shunted to another piece of the forest.

* * *

Eric had taken the last watch, about an hour before dawn. The tree stump he sat on was rough, but it gave him a good view of the camp. They were in a small hollow, free of underbrush and hidden within a decent wall of trees. Kelso and Fez were sleeping back-to-back, and Donna slept on the makeshift bed Eric had made them. Occasionally, she let out a soft, muted cry like she was dreaming—and not about anything good.

Not surprising, considering where they were. Eric's own sleep had been full of vivid dreams of running through the woods, chasing after the full moon as if catching it would finally wake him up. Truly wake him up to everything he was, not to the half man he'd felt like for too damn long. But now, as the sun peeked over the horizon, his thoughts grew more peaceful.

The wolves, wherever they were, had to be in human form now. Hopefully, that would make them less aggressive and easier to evade. More good news, the only growls he'd heard during the last twenty minutes were from his own stomach.

He was starving. Definitely time for breakfast. He pulled the drawstring pouch from his slacks' pocket and opened it. Inside were the seeds Laurie had given him. Maybe if he buried one in the dirt, it would grow into a bacon tree. Right.

He closed the pouch and returned it to his pocket. Coming back to the Nine Kingdoms was never part of his life-plan, but Laurie had told him he was needed here—to find out some truth about their family. Man... it was just like her to be vague. He stared at the brightening sky, trying to work it all out. She was probably pulling some post-death Fairy Godsister burn—

A twig snapped behind him, and he shot to his feet. Fuck the truth. He just wanted to go home, to his bed and his mommy, and to hold Donna tightly and live their damn lives.

Another snap froze Eric in place. It came from the wall of trees, and it was followed by a crunching that grew closer. "Kelso—!" he whispered and tried to raise his voice, but he couldn't. "Kelso!"

"Would you let go of my head already?" a distinctly familiar voice shouted.

It was answered by another familiar voice. "No."

Eric turned around, and he spotted the still-plump Jackie emerging from the trees with Hyde's hands firmly clamped on either side of her head.

"Forman?" Hyde said.

Jackie freed herself from Hyde's grasp and ran into Eric's arms. "Oh, thank God! The wolves didn't get you!"

Eric staggered backward with the force of her embrace. His arms closed around her in response—he was happy to see her and Hyde both—but he didn't know what spooked him more: Jackie's words about the wolves or the hug she was giving him. She pulled away, though, just as Hyde returned his hands to her head.

"Donna, wake up!" Jackie shouted, and Donna, Kelso, and Fez all woke as if her voice had been an alarm.

"Jackie?" Donna jumped up, and leaves and twigs flew everywhere. The makeshift bed had broken down to its separate components. "I'm so glad you're okay!" she said and tried to hug Jackie, but Hyde was too much in the way. She settled for holding Jackie's hand.

"Me, too!" Jackie said.

Donna was smiling, and her eyes gleamed wetly in the sunrise. She rubbed Hyde's arm tenderly and squeezed it. Then she said, "Why are you holding onto her like that?"

"She can't stop looking freakin' backwards."

"I had to!" Jackie said. "I thought I smelled roses, and the scent was too strong to be a random part of the woods. Maybe we'd passed by a garden, you know? Maybe someone had a house—"

Hyde screwed up his face. "In the middle of the damn forest?"

"I'll make sure to stay in front of her," Kelso said, wiping the sleep from his eyes. "Don't wanna tempt her with my good looks."

Fez nodded in agreement as he straightened the golden sash across his chest. "Yes, it is a good thing you're holding her head, Hyde. She would be trapped in these woods forever."

Jackie groaned. "I would not! It's thanks to me we found you."

"It was thanks to chance," Hyde said, but Eric wasn't so sure. Roses seemed to be Laurie's calling card now. Maybe his sister was helping them, guiding them, the same way Snow White had the last time they were in the Nine Kingdoms. "We're exhausted, man," Hyde said and gestured at Kelso, "and hungry. You got any food in that pack of yours?"

Kelso picked up his pack and opened it. "Just some of Fez's emergency candy—"

Fez's eyes widened, as if Kelso shouldn't have shared that piece of information, but he also allowed Kelso to dole out chocolates to everyone.

"Unfortunately, we can do nothing about your need for sleep," Fez said, sounding more like a king than usual. "The sooner we reach the Fifth Kingdom, the better it will be for us."

He and Kelso took the lead out of the hollow. The early morning light shone through the forest and revealed a clear path on the ground. It also showed evidence of the rich variety of creatures that lived here. A dew-covered spiderweb extended between two bushes, giving Eric a shudder. Baby birds chirped ceaselessly in nests high up in the trees, and certain patterns in the dirt made him think they were standing on top of a fox's den or a rabbit warren.

"We will follow this," Fez said, indicating the leaf-covered road, "east toward the sunrise."

Jackie reached behind herself and patted Hyde's shoulder. "But the wolves—"

"Are long gone, baby," Hyde said jauntily. "Haven't heard a howl since, and the sun's out."

Donna grasped Eric's hand and pulled herself close to his side. "You saw the wolves?" she said.

"More than saw," Hyde said. "They took out some of Cindy's guards, and we had to hoof it into this damn forest..."

Eric listened raptly as Hyde shared how the wolves surrounded them and how he and Jackie had escaped. The pack's leader seemed interested in them for some reason, but neither Hyde nor Jackie knew why.

"Oh, dude, that was lucky you still had that Wolfsbane," Kelso said. "Did you catch the color of the wolves?"

"All brown except for their boss, who was black" Hyde said.

"Juveniles," Fez said. He seemed to be rubbing his chin—Eric couldn't really tell since Fez was up ahead with his back to him—but he sounded deep in thought. "That is why they didn't call your bluff. You really were lucky." He raised his hand, as if he wanted everyone to stop. Then he turned around and faced them. "This is more serious than I believed. We must gather Wolfsbane blossoms as we go—and Kelso will make the pellets so we can be better armed."

Kelso twirled a finger in the air and pointed at everyone in turn. "And no one look backwards, Jackie."

"Oh!" Jackie tried to stomp forward, probably to kick him, but Hyde held her in place.

They resumed walking east. The forest grew brighter with the sunrise, which should have brightened Eric's mood, but his thoughts had darkened considerably. "This is more serious than I believed," Fez had said, and Eric didn't like hearing that—not at all.


	17. Shunted Off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 17  
 **SHUNTED OFF**  


Wolfsbane blossoms were royal blue in color, but Donna had found only orange and yellow thistles in the last hour. Despite Kelso's assurances to the contrary, she doubted they'd discover any Wolfsbane in this forest. After all, it was _Kelso_ doing the assuring.

Also not helping was Eric's constant, "Oh, is that it?" His outbursts made Jackie try to turn her head, which Donna currently held steady between her hands. Hyde had given Donna the task after one too many bickering arguments. He'd had enough of Jackie's "interrogations" and rushed up to Fez.

Searching through a dark forest did nothing to bolster morale, but they soon passed into a wooded glade full of sunlight. It was a nice change from the dense forest canopy, but whatever boost daylight brought them, collective hunger and fatigue quickly sapped. When Eric wasn't falsely identifying Wolfsbane, he stared longingly after rabbits and squirrels, as if they'd make for a nice breakfast.

Donna herself had remained quiet since they left the camp, but with Jackie's chubby cheeks pressed between her palms, she was moved to speech. "How are you holding up?" she said. "Has the curse gotten worse?"

"No," Jackie said, clearly pouting. Her head put pressure on Donna's hands, as if she wanted to look backward, but Donna's grip was solid and kept Jackie's face forward. "Cinderella told Steven and me that something about us is curseable—and I think she's right. We can't stop ticking each other off."

"You went through some rough stuff last night. That would make any couple a little cranky." Donna glanced ahead at Eric, and a memory grew bright within her mind. "I mean, Eric and I get into little fights when the waffle maker gets all gunked up with dough."

"Yes, but you two aren't _cursed._ Our fights might have some kind of clue in them, but I'm too tired and too hungry and too scared to figure it out."

Jackie's pain hit Donna harder than she thought it would. Her chest tightened as did her throat, but she forced the emotion back down into her stomach. "You're gonna be all right, Jackie," she said. "Eric and I aren't leaving here without you, which means we'll do everything we can to help you break this curse."

"Even if..." Jackie stopped herself. Whatever she was going to say, she'd decided against it. Instead, she reached back and rubbed the side of Donna's hand. "Thank you."

The glade—rather than returning them to dense forest—opened into a meadow of royal blue flowers. Donna's breath quickened. Had they found the Wolfsbane?

"Okay, people, listen up," Kelso said, using his deep Captain-of-the-Guard voice. He stopped everyone once they were inside the meadow. Then he pulled a smaller sack from his bundled pack and a pair of leather gloves. "We need to gather as many Wolfsbane blossoms as possible. Dump the flowers into this sack, and—"

"Wait, Michael," Jackie said, "you only have one pair of gloves."

"Yeah, the rest of us will have to deal with it this way." Kelso mimed rolling his sleeves down over his hands.

Jackie pulled Donna forward through the flowers and grass, "We don't have sleeves, you idiot!" and rammed her boot into Kelso's shin.

"Ow!" He hopped on one leg but managed not to drop anything. Donna was impressed. His balance had significantly improved in the last eight months. "Damn, Jackie! I didn't know we were gonna be dealing with wolves!"

"They're just flowers," Donna said. "Why would we need gloves to collect them? Are they poisonous?"

"Only to wolves," Eric said, as if he had first-hand knowledge. "We had a circle with a Wolfsbane pellet—"

"Makes you laugh like a moron," Hyde added.

Jackie nodded between Donna's hands. "And _act_ like one."

Kelso recovered from Jackie's kick, and he smiled. "It's great. The pellets kill a wolf if they swallow them, paralyze the wolves if they touch the skin—and can paralyze _us_ if we hold onto them too long. But if you hold onto one just long enough..." His smile broadened into a grin. "Donna, you and Eric have _gotta_ do it while—"

"No thanks," Eric said.

"Yes," Fez said, taking the gloves from Kelso, "the Red Caps use Wolfsbane to protect the Second Kingdom from even the most aggressive of wolf packs."

"Red Caps?" Donna hoped to get an answer, but Hyde snatched the gloves from Fez and tossed them to Eric.

"Hey," Kelso shouted before Fez could react, "those are for the king!"

"Elvis can use his sleeves," Hyde said and pulled off his corduroy jacket. He held the jacket out to Jackie. "Here."

"I don't think so." Jackie crossed her bare arms. "I'm your fiancée, Steven! How could you give those gloves to Eric?"

"Remember Forman's first experience with the stuff? Dragging his stiff ass through the forest isn't something I plan on doing. And if _you_ get that crap on you..." He gestured for Donna to back off from Jackie, which she did. Then he brought Jackie aside and spoke in a whisper Donna couldn't hear. But by the end of it, Jackie was wearing his jacket.

Eric took off his suit jacket for Donna to wear, too. His dress shirt had long sleeves, but Hyde's T-shirt didn't. Hyde seemed to realize that, though, and his shirt was off his body in moments—and wrapped around his hands.

"Everyone break off into pairs," Kelso said. "It'll be easier that way. I'll leave the sack in the grass here so you can drop the Wolfsbane in it. This'll be our _rendezvous_ point—and don't look behind you, _Jackie."_

"Shut up, Michael!"

Everyone split off into the expected pairs, Kelso with Fez and Jackie with Hyde. Donna and Eric went to a patch of jewel-bright flowers and picked as many as they could before returning to the sack.

At their second Wolfsbane patch, Donna said, "What was Hyde talking about before? What happened when you touched the Wolfsbane?"

Eric kept his gaze on the flowers. "I just... I froze. I mean, I could see everything that was happening, hear it, _feel_ it when Kelso and Fez put the Stupid Helmet on me and drew on my face—it was humiliating. They stuck fern leaves in my shirt, and I couldn't move." He shook his head. "I don't get it. None of the other guys froze up."

"Substances always affect you more than other people," Donna said, "especially the first time you use them. Remember how it only took a beer-and-a-half to get you drunk?"

"I was skinny back then, all right? I weighed, like, thirty pounds." He shifted a bunch of flowers to his left hand and flexed his right bicep. "I'm different now."

Donna laughed. He was flustered but a cute-flustered. "Well, 'Mr. Muscles,' you still get more baked during the circle than anyone else—off the same amount of pot."

"It always takes less for me to get affected."

"Exactly. So it's the same thing with this. Despite your hot new muscles, you're still really lean."

Eric finally looked up at her. "You think my muscles are hot?"

"I think _you're_ hot." Her hands were too wrapped up in the jacket's sleeves to touch him, but she leaned in close and spoke against his lips. "And I can't wait until we get somewhere where I can show you how much."

* * *

Hyde's shades were on his face accompanied by a scowl. With his shirt off, he had to be extra-careful getting the Wolfsbane. He stood from the flowers at arm's-length, making sure that only his shirt-bundled hands would come into contact with them—but the uncomfortable position hadn't caused his bad mood. One minute into picking the flowers, it was clear Jackie wasn't talking to him. He'd explained earlier how she would handle Wolfsbane better than Forman, and it seemed to have appeased her... for thirty damn seconds.

"Another bullshit silent treatment, Jackie?"

"It's a tactic that seems to work when _you_ do it to _me._."

Hyde's scowl weakened. He'd gotten her to talk, at least. "I never pull that crap on you."

"Now _that_ is bullshit, Steven." She dropped whatever flowers she'd gathered and extended her hands through the jacket sleeves. Then she reached toward his face, and in moments his shades were covering her own eyes.

"Jackie—"

"Wait, I'm not aloof enough yet." Her arms fell to her sides, and her expression blanked-out. "There. Steven Hyde meet Steven Hyde."

He laughed incredulously. Her piss-poor imitation of him was freakin' ridiculous. "I don't—when do I—?

"All the time," she said, and he gave her a look. "Okay, when I say something you don't want me to say."

"Well, what that does that tell you?"

"Or when I want _you_ to say something _you_ don't want to say. Steven, we're going to spend the rest of our lives together." She poked the middle of his bare chest. "You can't shut down every time something gets uncomfortable between us."

"Who's the one giving the silent treatments here?"

"I'm pretty. Don't contradict—" Her voice stalled; then it revved up with a shrieking vengeance. "Oh, God. No, I'm not! Even Donna's prettier than me now, and we've got the same hair color!" Tears rolled past the shades and onto her cheeks. They eventually dripped off her chin to the flowers below.

The tears, man... right now, Hyde couldn't stand them. Maybe it was the sensation of his unfed stomach sucking up against his spine. Or the fact he was too tired to block yesterday's memories—specifically, of the wolf-attacked guard convulsing and bleeding. But when he opened his mouth next, the wrong words escaped. "On second thought, the silent treatments are really working for you. You should stick with 'em."

Jackie's back straightened as if jolted by a sparking wire. Then she returned, empty-handed and alone, to the sack in the grass.

* * *

"Oh, man, look at her!" Kelso whispered to Fez. They both had a ton of Wolfsbane flowers in their arms, but they were taking their time walking to the rendezvous point. Jackie was standing there by herself and wearing Hyde's sunglasses. In the clear, unobstructed light of day, the curse's affects had never been more evident. "She kinda looks like a short, squashed Donna. Yeah, like an elephant had sat on Donna's head then walked away."

Fez didn't laugh. In fact, he seemed downright upset. "Oh, Kelso, this is a test of kinghood."

"What're you talking about?" Kelso put his arm around Fez's shoulders, which caused more than half of the flowers to fall to the ground. "Shit." He knelt down and picked them back up. "You didn't know the ring was cursed when you gave it to Hyde, and the Fourth Kingdom's doing great... right?"

"Yes, but I've inherited two-hundred years of strife between the north and south halves of the Second Kingdom. People do not like change my friend..." Fez sighed heavily. He'd been doing that a lot. "But Gretel the Third's death has forced it to happen. I should just recommend that Queen Riding Hood take control over the whole kingdom."

Kelso stood back up with the flowers safely in his arms again. "She'd kick those wolves straight into the Troll Kingdom. I'd like to see that."

"I would, too..." Fez said. They were going so slowly that they hadn't reached the rendezvous point yet. "But I'm not sure it is the right thing to do."

Kelso understood—as much as he _could_ understand. In moments like these, he was glad to be what passed as a cop in the Nine Kingdoms. Politics were never his thing, and making decisions that would affect countless lives? He had a hard enough time making decisions that affected his own life.

By the time they made it back to the rendezvous point, everyone had joined them there. Donna held up the sack while Eric and Hyde tossed in their flowers, and Kelso peeked inside. The sack was two-thirds full.

"That should be enough," he said. "Eric, give me the gloves. I've gotta make the pellets now."

"Sure." Eric pulled off the gloves and handed them over. "Are you just gonna roll the flowers up, or...?"

Kelso plucked a vial of clear liquid from inside his jacket. "Binder, from the tears of an Elf."

"So you got 'em after giving an Elf the worst night of here life?" Hyde said.

"Yeah..." Kelso sat in the grass with the gloves on his hands and the sack in his lap. "Her wings got in the way. Doggy-style doesn't work well with chicks who've got something jutting from their back."

* * *

Kelso was in the midst of making the Wolfsbane pebbles, mashing several blossoms in his gloved hands, combining them with the Elf's tears, then rolling them into small, marble-sized spheres. He lay them on the grass to let them dry in the sun. Hyde hoped it wouldn't take too long.

Jackie hadn't taken off his shades yet or his jacket. She hadn't spoken to him in the last fifteen minutes, either, but his apology could wait. She could handle feeling hurt a little longer if it meant solving their problem. Fez was the man to speak to, so he backed away from the group and waved Fez over.

"How can I help you, my friend?" Fez said.

Hyde made sure they were far enough from the rendezvous point before speaking. He didn't need Jackie, Forman, or Donna freaking out. "Listen," he began and told Fez what Cinderella had said about the ring. How the dragon that originally cursed the diamond might still be alive.

Fez nodded the whole time Hyde spoke, as if he more than than understood. "Yes, it is possible my grandfather didn't do as complete a job as the story tells. It was a fire-breathing dragon he had to slay, and I wouldn't have stuck around to see if it were completely dead. Then again, I fear for my little man more than my grandfather did." Fez gazed at the clear morning sky, and his thoughts seemed to steal him. "Never eating chocolate again... now _that_ would be a tragedy."

"Hey, man, focus!" Hyde snapped his fingers in front of Fez's face, and Fez's attention returned to him. "Me, Jackie, the curse—gotta find the dragon's hoard and return the diamond to it?"

"Right, right... It wouldn't be too hard to find."

"So you know where the cavern is," Hyde said and cringed at his hopeful tone. He might have even been smiling a little. _Damn it._ He was too tired and too hungry to emotionally distance himself—and if any situation called for emotional distance, man, it was this one.

"It lies at the border between the Fourth and Fifth Kingdoms," Fez said, and his brow furrowed. "If the dragon _is_ alive and back at full strength—recovered from the wounds my grandfather gave it—we would need a dragon slayer."

"So let's get one of those."

"None are left. The slaying tradition died out with the dragons."

Hyde scratched the back of his neck and glanced across the meadow at Jackie. Her hands were in the pockets of his corduroy jacket. It fit her a lot better than it would have a few days ago, when she would've been swallowed up by it. The sun gleamed off her orange hair and his shades, making her face seem to glow, but she looked miserable.

"I'll have to do it myself," he said. "I just need gear."

Fez started to laugh, and the laughter built and built until tears leaked from his eyes, and he clapped Hyde's shoulder for support. "Oh, Hyde, you can protect a little foreign kid from the high school football team—and your heart from feeling very much—but your body will be burned to ash, you sonuvabitch."

"Yeah, that's a laugh riot, but what else am I gonna do?"

Fez squeezed Hyde's shoulder. "Hope that the dragon is dead and someone else cursed the ring?"

Hyde shoved Fez's hand off him,"Whatever," and strode back to the rendezvous point.

Kelso had finished with the Wolfsbane pellets. They were dry, and he was putting them into the sack. "We're prepared if those wolves come howling," he said once the sack was full and tied closed. "Of course, it'll be harder to recognize them since they'll be all 'human' now."

He pushed the sack-tie through one of his belt loops and began to knot it—and Forman said, "You're making a granny knot there, pal. That thing'll never hold."

"No, I'm not." Kelso chuckled. "And I'm _knot,_ either."

"Good one," Fez said. He'd returned to the rendezvous point quickly after Hyde. "But let Eric _teach_ you how to tie a better knot." Kelso opened his mouth, but Fez put up a dismissive hand. "I said, 'Eric, teach!'"

"Eric, you were right," Donna said, and she pecked Forman on the lips. "All those nerdy summers spent in the woods _did_ make you foxy."

Forman grinned at her; then he directed the grin at Kelso. "Okay, you'll wanna make a constrictor's knot." He took the sack from Kelso and tutted. " Oh, you also didn't tie this closed right. See, it's starting to open. You need a miller's knot here..."

Hyde went to Jackie's side as "Johnny Cub Scout" knocked Kelso's ego down a peg—and she turned away before he could say a word. Her hands remained pocketed in the corduroy jacket, but he slipped his arms beneath hers and hugged her from behind. "I'm sorry for being an asshole," he whispered. "This fucking curse is pissing me off, not you."

Her body finally lost its rigid posture. She pulled her hands from the pockets and squeezed his embracing arms. "Thank you, Steven."

His sideburn brushed past her cheek as he angled his head for a kiss. She turned her face toward him, and Kelso shouted, "No!" as he grabbed onto Jackie's shoulder. The sack dangled from one of his hands, and Forman still held onto the sack-tie. Donna's fingers were hooked around Forman's bicep, and Fez was clutching Kelso's bundled pack, presumably to take out more of his "emergency candy".

Hyde managed to register all of this in the split-second before vertigo blurred his senses. He clung to Jackie tightly until the dizziness passed.

"Great," Kelso said angrily, "the forest's different. You see what Frenching Hyde does? It makes bad things happen."

"Sexy bad things," Fez said.

But Jackie's lips had barely touched Hyde's before the six of them were shunted off. The Wolfsbane meadow was gone, replaced by another wooded glade. The trees were different here, scrubbier, and the scent of—

"Ba-con?" Forman said. He jogged down the twig-strewn path they'd found themselves on, but Donna caught him before he got too far.

"Hold on, Eric," she said, standing in front of him. "We're all hungry, but we don't know—"

"You're right," he said. "It's not bacon. There's sausage a-cookin' out there!" He tried to move past her, but she held her ground. He probably could _'_ ve shoved her aside thanks to his new strength. But Forman had too much respect for her ever to do that, and Hyde admired him for it.

"Jackie," Fez touched her arm,"your horny lack of self-control did well by us. We must be on the outskirts of the Fifth Kingdom. They always have sausage festivals."

"There's gotta be one close by," Forman said. "I hear music, like fiddles and flutes. Can't you hear that?"

Donna said no, and Hyde couldn't, either. He slid his hands over the sides of Jackie's head. He had to keep it facing front as they followed the path, but soon the music became clear to all of them. Some kind of party was definitely going on. The trees dwindled along the path. Shrubs became more common, and the smell of meat grew so strong that Hyde's stomach growled painfully. Whoever was cooking, he hoped they were willing to share.

Forman sped up, and everyone matched him. The cool morning air breezed into their clothes, and they were all running at a good clip until they hit a wall of poplars and ashes. "It's through here!" Forman shouted. "Come on!"

They all squeezed themselves between the trees, and they exited to a grassy field. It was the middle of a sausage festival, all right. A bunch of men—old, young, and mostly fat—were milling around with their personal sausages hanging out. They were completely naked, cooking all sorts of meat on spits and over fires. Even the musicians, including a few accordion players, were playing in the nude.

Guy-butt wasn't on Hyde's list of favorite things to look at, and he could've gone his whole life without seeing that many 'nads. His own parts were more than enough, but at least the amount of naked chicks almost equaled the men. They bustled about with trays holding some kind of frothy drink—hopefully beer—but Hyde didn't care what it was long as he got to guzzle a tub of it.

"Eww!" Jackie said. She hid behind him and pressed her forehead into his back. A group of men had approached them, all nude except for their baldrics. The leather belts were slung over their right shoulders, and rapiers dangled from them

The shortest among the four moved out in front. He was about Fez's height with a face like a butternut squash—rounder at the bottom with a high forehead. A thick blanket of brown hair covered his chest and doughy stomach, and Hyde refused to look lower. The man had to be the leader. His self-assured stance and bejeweled sword hilt were dead giveaways.

"Welcome to the Fifth Kingdom," the man said, pointing to his rapier. "Please remove your clothes—or we'll remove them for you."


	18. Controlled Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 18  
 **CONTROLLED BURN**  


"Remove our clothes?" Forman's eyes grew wide, as if he'd never seen a naked body up close before. Granted, the four men standing in front of him weren't lookers, but Hyde couldn't tell what bothered Forman more: their dangling swords or their dangling sausages.

"Come on, Forman," Hyde whispered. "Your in-laws are nudists. Better get used to it."

"Shut up!" Forman's voice was a growl, same as his stomach, and Hyde couldn't blame him. The guy had to be hungry. Hyde sure as hell was.

The scent of spiced meat was taunting his nose. None of them had eaten anything substantial in almost a day, and a festival of grub waited for them in the grassy field. Hyde's tongue ached for the beer those naked chicks carried. So if stripping to their birthday suits was required for admittance, then Hyde would do it.

"Well?" The leader of the nude foursome sighed, as if he were tired of waiting. Then he lifted his rapier slightly from its scabbard.

"Save your 'well's!" Fez pushed in front of Forman and Hyde, and he stood nose-to-nose with the leader. " _Benedick._ "

"Ah, King Fez." The leader—Benedick—released his rapier and bowed his head. "You, of course, may keep on your clothes, but the others—"

"Oh, I will strip down, you sonuva—" Fez cleared his throat, " _noble._ " He undid the frog clasps of his white military-style jacket. His fingers dug into the ornamental braiding, and Hyde bit down a swear. He always figured Fez would end up being a stripper—especially with frenetic polka music playing in the background..

"Ahem." Donna edged her way past Forman and stood beside Fez. "Why do I get the feeling something happened between the two of you?"

"There was an incident," Fez said. He pulled off his jacket and handed it to Kelso, revealing a white undershirt. "Mistakes were made." He continued to undress and glared at Benedick's smug face.

"My hair still hasn't all grown back," Benedick said and matched Fez's glare. But his words drew Hyde's gaze lower, past Benedick's round belly. The man wasn't lying.

Jackie peeked out from Hyde's back where she'd been hiding. Curiosity must have gotten the better of her, but she gasped and tightened her grip on his waist. He patted her fingers in solidarity. No one needed to see low-hanging fruit like that.

Fez tossed his undershirt at Kelso, "Well, who asked you to stand so close to my marshmallows?" and started to unbutton his white pants.

"You should have been holding a shorter twig!" Benedick shouted.

"I would have, but I couldn't find one!"

"I had one."

"I did not want to touch yours," Fez said. He was stripped down to his underwear now, but his sword belt remained fastened around his hips. "It was all sticky!"

Forman glanced behind himself at Hyde, and Hyde braced himself for a bout of dizziness—but the dizziness didn't come. They were out of the magic forest, apparently. Turning one's head would no longer shunt them off somewhere new. Or maybe it was another fluke, like when he and Jackie were confronted last night by wolves. Either way, he didn't care. He just wanted to get past these naked stooges and fill his stomach.

"Where does Fez keep finding these people?" Forman whispered, but Hyde ignored the question, instead stepping forward with Jackie clinging to his back.

"Hey," he said to Benedick, "we're just trying to get to the Ninth Kingdom. So if you'll let us have some beer and a few of your sausages—" Kelso burst out in laughter, and Hyde elbowed his ribs, "we'll get our clothed asses out of your sight."

Benedick shook his head. "I'm afraid that's quite impossible. Passage to the Ninth Kingdom through here is blocked."

Hyde's fists clenched as Jackie's arms crushed his waist—and squeezed half the hunger out of him. "Why?" he said. The cursed diamond of her ring came from the Ninth Kingdom, from the dragon cave where Fez's grandpa had stolen it. They needed to get there, man, to find out whether the dragon was alive or not.

"Someone broke into the Royal Museum and stole the Princess Pea," Benedick said.

"So?"

"That pea belonged to the first Naked Emperor. The woman who became his wife had slept on when he was in search of a princess... Don't tell me you don't know the tale. The pile of mattresses, the lump in her back—"

Hyde sucked in a breath, willing his last shreds of patience to surface. "Don't know. Don't care. What's the bottom line?"

Benedick peered over his shoulder at the festival. "Our current Emperor is quite distraught and refuses to let anyone leave his kingdom. There are rumors that he's even..." his voice lowered, "wearing clothes."

"But we got into the Fifth Kingdom," Kelso said. Fez's white suit and black boots were heaped up in his arms, and Fez lay his underwear on top.

"Yes, but you won't be leaving." Benedick gestured to the trees around them. "Why do you think we're having a sausage festival this close to the border? We may be on watch, but we're not ones to be bored while doing so." He gripped his sword hilt again. "No one is allowed to leave until the pea culprit—or the pea—is found."

Jackie finally showed herself, and she marched far closer to Benedick than Hyde would've expected. "Now you listen," she said, standing ruler-straight with her chin held high, "we _are_ going to the Ninth Kingdom, and you—"

"I'm afraid that's quite impossible," Benedick said, but Jackie was having none of it. She gave him an expression Hyde had seen hundreds of times, full of Burkhart haughtiness and power. The smallest quirk of her eyebrow was enough to send weaker people into fits of subservience, and Benedick wasn't immune. He released his sword hilt, coughed, and when he spoke next, his voice had lost some of its steel. "Un—unless..."

Hyde took in Jackie's imposing figure appreciatively. Carrying forty extra pounds had dented her self-esteem and being cursed was scaring the hell out of her, but his chick still had it.

"There is an island in the middle of Skinny Dipping Lake where wild pea plants grow," Benedick said. "The island is covered in peas during this time of year, and if you six were to gather them for me, I would surely find a perfect match to the Princess Pea. I know exactly what it looks like, down to it's every dimple and dot of discoloration..." He lifted his gaze to the clear blue sky, and his face seemed to take on the brightness of the sun. "I could present this stand-in to the Emperor, gaining the glory and rewards of being the Princess Pea's savior—" Fez tutted and drew Benedick's focus to him, "and you would be able to leave."

"Fez," Donna whispered, "can't you do something? You're sovereign of your own kingdom. Doesn't that give you special rights—"

Fez sighed. "No. It is because I am King that I must help the Naked Emperor retrieve his special pea. It is a rule of the Nine Kingdoms. If a sovereign of one realm enters the kingdom of another, it is the duty of the visiting sovereign to aid the home-realm ruler any way he or she can. Otherwise, it's bad politics."

Benedick's smug smile returned, and Hyde said, "So show us to the island, and we'll get your damn peas."

"Oh, I'm afraid that's quite impossible. You need a boat to get there, and all boats are moored indefinitely until the Princess Pea is found."

A strangled sound eked out of Jackie's mouth, and she lunged forward at Benedick, but Hyde caught her around the waist. Her hands clawed at the air in front of her as he dragged her backward.

"I do, however, have a yacht I'd be willing to let you borrow..." Benedick's carpet of chest hair rose with a deep breath, "if King Fez and all of you join us for the Nimble festivities tonight."

Fez glanced down at his bare legs. "Ai, no..."

"Wait," Forman said, "if this is some kind of orgy-thing, we'll have to pass."

"Unless it's a bunch of chicks and me 'cause I could get into that," Kelso said. Fez's clothes were still in his arms, and his chin rested on top of Fez's underwear.

Benedick waved dismissively. "No, the orgy was last week. Tonight is the Jack-Be-Nimble, Jack-Be-Quick test of bravery. If King Fez wins, I'll lend you my yacht. "

"Ai, no..." Fez repeated.

"Ai, yes." Benedick nodded. "We'll see whose marshmallows get burned this time."

* * *

Large circus-sized tents were set up all over the field, and Benedick led them to a red and purple one. Jackie kept herself pressed to Steven's back, peeking out of one eye. Several nude women met them inside the tent, giving them all leather knapsacks to carry their clothes in, including their shoes. Jackie gripped the knapsack straps and froze. Being naked in public didn't bother her, but being naked in public _in this body_ was a problem. All her fat rolls would be on display for her friends to mock.

The only good thing was that Benedick had excused himself. "Business to attend" and what-not. She didn't need that creepy guy watching her undress. Fez already filled that spot on her roster.

The nude women disappeared to another part of the tent, but Jackie remained dressed as her friends stripped down around her. Pin-sized holes cut into the tent's roof let in plenty of light, though all she wanted was to be swathed in darkness. The light allowed her to see too much—and to be seen too well.

Fez stuffed both his and Michael's clothes into his knapsack. Michael already had a heavy pack to carry, and Fez seemed magnanimous enough to realize that. The two of them were chatting casually, as if they weren't nude, but the sight of their nakedness made Jackie curious.

She crept around to where Donna and Eric had undressed. Donna was covering herself as best as she could, but Eric's appearance gave Jackie a little jolt. Not only was his slender body covered in muscle, but his privates were a lot bigger than she ever would've guessed.

"Donna," she said, voice thick with astonishment, "why didn't you tell me—"

"Jackie—hello?" Eric hid his crotch with his hands. "A little privacy here?"

"Good luck getting that," Steven said. He was standing behind Jackie now, concealing himself with her still-clothed body.

Donna laughed. "Shy all of a sudden, Hyde?"

Steven answered by walking out into the open. Jackie tried to maneuver herself in front of him,

" _Steven,_ that's only for me to see," but it was too late.

"Nice," Donna said and raised her eyebrows.

"Donna!" Eric said, clearly insulted, and Jackie giggled. Her possessiveness had been replaced by pride.

She let Steven remain exposed as Michael and Fez joined them. Neither of them showed any hint of inhibition. In fact, they were staring at Steven's parts then staring back at their own, as if comparing them.

"Oh, yeah!" Kelso said. "I knew I was the longest!"

"Mine gets bigger, believe me," Fez said. "To kingly proportions. Want to see?"

"No!" everyone shouted.

"Hey, what about mine?" Eric's hands flew from his crotch.

Donna frantically grasped Eric's wrists and made him re-cover himself, but Kelso smiled. "Dude, I still win."

"Not really," Jackie said. "The extra bit of length you have is nothing compared to the thickness Steven has, and his rhythm is—"

Steven cupped his palm over her mouth. "Yeah, enough ding-dong talk."

"Bmf, Stefm," she said behind his fingers, "youmf iff almoft amf lomf."

"I don't give a shit that Kelso's is half-an-inch longer—"

"Hyde, you understood that?" Donna said.

"I got the gist." He released Jackie's mouth and pulled her some distance away from their friends. "You gotta take off your clothes, doll," he said gently. "We've got too much crap ahead of us for your insecurity to screw us over."

She shook her head as panic rose in her chest. No one should have to witness her current state of ugliness. "I can't. Steven, I can't!"

"Just stay behind me." he said. "I'll—"

The nude women were back. They had huge fern fronds in their hands, and they offered Jackie and Steven each a pair.

"We understand," one of the women said. "Not everyone is as comfortable with their bodies as we are in the Fifth Kingdom."

"These are customarily offered to visitors," another woman said. "Use them as you please."

Jackie's pulse slowed a little. "Thank you. "

The women bowed their heads before moving onto Eric and Donna. At least not everyone was crazy in this place.

"Steven," Jackie took off his corduroy jacket, "while we're eating, you have to cover any part of me I can't."

"No problem."

A few minutes later, Jackie's clothes were in the knapsack and the fern fronds were covering her breasts and lower. She and Steven had rejoined their friends. They all had their privates covered, too—except for Fez. She questioned him, and he put up his hand. "I will forgo the frond," he said.

"But, Fez—"

"I said, 'Forgo!'"

The six of them left the seclusion of the tent for the heart of the sausage festival. Grating, non-stop polka music grew louder as the scent of food grew stronger. Jackie kept her attention as best she could on the meat sizzling over fires and turning on spits. She did catch, however, that more than a few men wore baldrics and swords like Benedick. They were serious about being on watch, but they hadn't confiscated Michael or Fez's weapons. The rapiers swung from Michael and Fez's sword belts, and she felt safer for it.

The field's soft grass eased her tired feet while she and Steven walked to a buffet table. They were following Eric and Donna—or maybe just Eric's stomach. He seemed hungrier than everyone combined. The table was covered with all kinds of sausage, and thanks to her job at the Cheese Palace, she recognized a lot of them: bratwurst, chorizo, and linguica—which she'd never touch since it had pork butt in it—salami, knackwurst, and kielbasa. The smell of it all made her stomach sound like a grinding motor and tempted her to cut the line of nude people in front of her.

Instead, she took solace in the moment. She and her friends were safe. No frightening wolves were here, nor was anyone else who wanted to kill them. And they had abundant food, such as it was.

Steven grabbed an overflowing stein from a female server's tray. He tried to give it to Jackie, but both her hands were busy holding the fern fronds and hiding her body. "We'll have to share it," he said then proceeded to guzzle down the whole stein himself.

"Steven!"

White froth covered his chin and cheeks. "What?"

"I thought we were gonna share it."

"We will—the next one." He wiped his face with his arm. Then, on the server's second pass through the buffet line, he returned the empty stein to her tray. He replaced it with a full one. "Best fuckin' beer I ever drank," he said and positioned the stein at Jackie's lips.

She eyed him incredulously. They were all terribly thirsty. Right now, even The Hub's disgusting coffee—which normally tasted like cigarette ash—would've gone down like the finest champagne. She was about to tell him so, but he tipped the stein carefully, and she drank... and drank... and drank until the stein was mostly empty.

"Oh, my God," she said, giggling, "that really is great." The beer was the perfect balance of sweet and bitter, had the right amount of fizz.

"Told ya." He finished off the last bit himself and got another when the server passed by again.

Maybe it was having something in her stomach, or maybe it was the alcohol, but the sky seemed brighter and their prospects less grim. She leaned her head on Steven's bare shoulder as they waited in line. One of his arms remained around her non-existent waist. His nakedness didn't seem to bother him—or he'd distanced himself from it, gone Zen. Sometimes, she wished she was as good at doing that as he was. But her heart, it seemed, would always rule her.

Moments later, when they reached the buffet table, Jackie's mood dropped considerably. Getting their food was not an easy process. First, Eric had made sure to be ahead of all of them. He snatched up sausages and devoured them almost faster than she could track. The line stopped dead until, finally, Donna took control. She shoved a plate into his hands and made him act like a man rather than a ravenous dog.

Second, Jackie had only one hand to work with. She pressed her stomach into the table's edge, effectively hiding her pelvis from view. Then she piled a few sausages on a plate, but her major problem became evident when she tried to leave the table. Steven had to carry his own plate and the stein. She could've asked him to help, and he might have managed it, but she needed to do something on her own.

She sucked in a steadying breath, willing tears of humiliation not to pour forth, and put down the frond concealing her breasts.

"Shit." Steven dropped his plate on the table and covered her chest with his frond. "Jackie, what're you doing?"

"I have to carry my food somehow, don't I?"

"Easy solution." He took her plate and tilted the sausages onto his own already-full plate.

"Oh." Wet awe replaced the humiliation behind her eyes. Steven was so damn resourceful. An idea as simple as sharing a plate had never occurred to her. "Thank you, baby, but—but how am I gonna eat?"

"I'll feed you."

"No." Her unshed tears returned to their hot, humiliated state. She had two choices: reveal her cursed, blubbered-up body or let Steven feed her like she was an infant. "No, I'll just..."

She scanned the field for a secluded area and found none. She did spot something interesting, though, in a grassless tract of dirt. Candleholders of all sizes were secured in the dry ground, and some were half as tall as herself. People, including Benedick, were jumping over them, practicing for what had to be the Jack-Be-Nimble contest.

The contenders leapt like champion track-and-field athletes, and Jackie's appetite diminished. How would Fez ever compete with them?

"Jackie, it's no big deal," Steven said and returned her frond leaf. She covered her breasts again, relieving him of that duty. "You always feed me funnel cake when we go to Six Flags." They left the buffet table together, and he carried their beer and the plate of sausages.

"Yes, but that's a romantic gesture. This," she could no longer dam the tears, and a few escaped, "this is charity."

He didn't answer her, not verbally. But his naked eyes spoke of exasperation and something deeper, something pained. His lips made the barest of movements, as if he wanted to tell her what, but he gestured across the field to the tent they'd undressed in.

"We'll eat there," he said. "Should be private enough."

* * *

Steven was right. The tent was relatively private. Their friends had decided to eat there with them, and only a few of the nude revelers wandered in and out. She'd taken Steven's jacket from her knapsack and laid it on the grassy floor to sit on. She didn't need insects crawling on her while she ate.

With her back to the center of the tent—and to everyone but Steven—she felt safe to use both hands to eat and drink. A fern frond lay on her lap, and she hunched over so her breasts were practically lying against her calves. Not a beautiful sight, she was sure. She'd begged Steven to eat next to her instead of in front, but he wanted to "guard her back" just in case.

"So I was checking out the competition," Eric said behind her—to someone who wasn't her. "It doesn't look too bad."

"Oh, believe me, my friend," Fez said, "when the candles are added, it is very bad."

Jackie glanced over her shoulder at him. "Don't you _dare_ lose, Fez. I don't care if your 'nads get burned off. We _have_ to get out of here."

"Jackie, relax," Michael said. He was sitting next to Fez on the grass. "He's sure to win. He's had tons of experience because of the Vikings—"

"There are vikings here?" Eric said.

Michael laughed. "No, but that'd be awesome. They've got cool helmets." He made a slobbering sound, like he was chewing sausage with an open mouth. "Back in high school, man. The football team. Fez ran away from them all the time, jumping over chairs and desks—"

"It's true," Fez said, but Jackie's engagement ring felt tight, like it was choking her finger. She itched to remove it, to toss it into one of the cooking fires outside the tent, but then Steven would be afflicted with the curse.

She needed to stop thinking about it, to disconnect herself from feeling the ring's stranglehold. So she drank beer and ate spiced sausages until she was stuffed. Had she been in her rightful slim body, the amount she'd eaten would have shown. But in her current state, who could tell one roll for another?

Once they'd finished with their meal, the boys left to relieve themselves in the field, leaving Jackie and Donna in the tent. With all the running away from wolves and worrying about the curse, Jackie'd had no chance to ask Donna about her honeymoon. Now was the perfect time, the perfect distraction.

"So," Jackie said, making sure the fern leaves covered her parts properly, "is sex with Eric better now that you're married?"

Donna burst into a grin. "Oh, my God—it's _so_ good. I mean, he was always good, but he's gotten a lot big—" She clamped her mouth shut. Then, more calmly, she said, "Let's just say his workouts have made him grow in a lot of, um... nice ways."

"Really?" Giddiness filled Jackie's chest. She felt light, as if she and Donna were sitting on the Formans' front steps, until a shadow spread across their faces and bodies.

"Hello there, ladies." Three tall and naked men were looming before them. They had at least thirty years on Jackie and Donna with their graying, balding heads. Jackie glanced up and immediately regretted it. They were becoming "happy".

Donna got to her feet. "What do you want?"

"Who cares?" Jackie stood up, too, and retreated behind her.

"You don't look like you're from around here," one of the men said. "I'm Ronall." He nodded to his two cohorts. "These are Evzik and Sandor. You up for a little... libidinous sport?"

Donna's body jerked forward as if she'd been yanked, causing Jackie to stumble. "Touch me again," Donna shouted, "and I'll kick all of your asses!"

"Sounds like fun," Evzik said. He rushed forward with his cohorts, and Jackie screamed before dashing away toward the tent's center.

"Hey!" Eric's voice. "That's my wife you're chasing!"

Jackie stopped running— _was Steven with him?_ —and turned around. The tallest of the men, Sandor, was closing in on Donna, but Eric tackled his legs, sending them both crashing to the ground. Sandor twisted free and scrabbled through the grass, but Eric sprang after him and shoved him back down.

"You mess with her, you mess with me," Eric said, and his fist collided with Sandor's jaw. The man's lips grew red with blood, but two pairs of hairy legs stole Jackie's attention. Ronall and Evzik were still pursuing her.

"Steven!" she called out, but he hadn't returned from his bathroom break. If only one man had been chasing her, she would've kneed him in the balls. But two were too dangerous, so she fled across the tent with the fronds' stems clenched in her fists. Her legs pumped through the grass until they burned, but the fronds' air resistance was slowing her down. She dropped them—

_Too late._ One of the men grabbed her elbow with a sweaty hand. "Calm down. We're all friends here."

Jackie smashed her heel into his shin. He cursed in pain and let her go, but his cohort grasped her wrist.  
"Stop! In the name of King Fez!"

Michael rushed forward with his rapier drawn. Fez was behind him and unsheathed his sword mid-run. Jackie covered her breasts and lower as Ronall and Evzik edged away from her. The men got to their knees and bowed low, and beyond them, Sandor was bowing, too.

"K—king Fez!" Ronall said with his forehead pushed into the grass.

"You will harass my friends no longer," Fez said. "A good day to you."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Evzik said.

Ronall clutched the ground as if he were afraid. "Th—thank you, Your—Your Majesty."

"I said, 'Good day!'" Fez shouted, and all three men jumped to their feet and barreled toward the tent exits. Sandor passed Eric and Donna on his way, and Eric kicked him in the butt, knocking Sandor back onto the grass. Sandor didn't bother to stand. He crab-walked out of the tent.

Donna said something to Eric, but Jackie was too far away to hear. Donna seemed to be fawning over him, and he chuckled.

Jackie, however, found nothing at all funny about this event. Steven hadn't returned yet, and Michael was staring at her with a half-confused, half-repulsed expression.

"Shut up, Michael!" she said, though he wasn't speaking. She snatched the fern fronds back up and re-covered herself properly. She would have hit him had he not protected her from those awful men. "Where the hell is Steven?"

"He said he was getting supplies." Fez lowered his head. "Ai, I am so sorry, Jackie. The curse has turned your beautiful body into beautiful lard."

Michael's confused, repulsed expression hadn't changed. "Man, Jackie, you've gone from a nine to a three."

"Would you two morons quit fuckin' telling her that?" Steven finally emerged inside the tent, and Jackie charged him. She struck his chest with her fists then struck his ribs and stomach—unleashing all her fury from the last five terrible minutes onto his body. "Jackie—" He stopped her assault by gripping her arms.

"Why weren't you here? You should've been here!"

"What?" he said, clearly not understanding.

"Three uggos tried to get nasty with them," Michael said.

Steven seemed to understand now. His grip on Jackie's arms loosened, and his voice flattened to a scary calm. "Where are they?"

"They won't trouble Jackie and Donna again," Fez said and patted the hilt of his sword.

"You killed 'em?"

"No, but I am King."

" _Eric_ protected Donna," Jackie whispered, not wanting anyone but Steven to hear. "He punched that creep, _really_ punched him. I kept waiting for you—"

Steven's eyes grew hard, and he nodded at Michael and Fez. "Get out of here for a sec."

Michael's mouth opened to protest or complain, but Fez gave him a silent order. They moved across the grassy ground to the other side of the tent, where Eric and Donna were standing.

"What did these assholes look like, Jackie?" Steven said quietly. He was beyond anger, and Jackie sensed his rage inside her own body, circling her heart like barbed wire.

"It doesn't matter," she said. "They didn't have a chance to do anything, but..." her fingertips traced over the parts of him she'd hit, wanting to take back the strikes he didn't deserve, "what if they _had_ touched me?"

"It would be the last time they touched _anything._ "

Her pulse grew tight. Unlike Eric, he wouldn't have stopped at one punch, and the barbed wire threatened to pierce her heart. She eased her arms around Steven's back, hoping to deplete some of his rage. In a way, it was better he'd been absent when those men attacked. If she and Steven had been home—and not cursed—his self-control would've kicked. But here, under their current circumstances, she didn't know what his limits were.

She snuggled into him now, relieved he'd been out "getting supplies"... whatever that meant.

"Yeah," he pushed her away gently, "let's not do that."

"Why not?"

"We're both naked."

"Oh." She looked down at his fern leaf. He was holding it out a little bit, as if he'd become aroused. "How can you..." She lowered her view further, concentrating on the grass. "How can you still be attracted to me?"

His palm slid tenderly over the side of her face and lifted her gaze. "Remember what you told me about meeting Snow White?" He didn't wait for her to answer. "You said she was the most beautiful chick you'd ever seen."

Jackie nodded. She'd always imagined Snow White to be thin, like in the Disney cartoon, but she was a plump woman—and that was all Jackie could see until Snow White shared the story of her bravery. __  
  
"I really don't disgust you?" Jackie said. A cloud must have passed over the tent because the light inside dimmed.

"A long time ago," Steven said, "back when you were on the rebound from Kelso. We were hanging out in your dad's Lincoln—"

"You didn't want me kissing you. In fact, you shoved me off. You said—you said you didn't like me. You found me annoying—"

_"Abrasive,"_ he corrected. "I also said some shit like if I didn't know you, I would've thought you were hot."

"Yeah. Yeah, you did say that."

Her forehead stung coldly, as if the icy hand of comprehension had slapped it. She'd looked damn good during their non-date date—her eyelids seductively shadowed with dusty rose, lips glossed to perfection— and Steven still hadn't been attracted to her.

She leaned her cheek into his hand. Finally, she felt some peace about her cursed body—at least where Steven was concerned. He'd always think she was beautiful, no matter how she looked, because... "My God,baby, you're really in love with me."

He laughed, neither confirming nor denying her claim, but as his thumb stroked the ridge of her ear, she knew.

* * *

Chatter in the air grew loud as competitors for the Jack-Be-Nimble contest lined up. The sun had set, but campfires were built around the field to provide light. The waning, gibbous moon helped, too, and Fez feared his competition more than the prospect of wolves attacking tonight. But if they did attack, he and Kelso could dispatch them easily—well, perhaps not _easily,_ but the Wolfsbane Kelso carried gave them a significant advantage.

Fez stretched his back and did some deep-knee bends. He hoped his brief but horrendous time as a dog would give him some advantage in judging distances—along with the power to _jump_ those distances.

Benedick, that wily sonuvabitch, could leap tree stumps like a grasshopper. The row of half-foot candleholders and their foot-long candles didn't seem to faze him. He continually cast smug, sidelong glances at Fez and made lewd gestures to Fez's little man, as if it were inevitable Fez would get burned.  
"Aw, don't pay any attention to him," Kelso said. He was standing behind Fez and acting as his coach. "Just think of all the chicks you're gonna get by winning this contest."

Fez's rapier was in Kelso's safe-keeping, and Fez peered back at it. "Dueling Benedick steel-to-steel would be easier—and safer for Pepé—than this."

"Yeah, but you don't need to be safe. You just need to win so we can get out of this kingdom. Jackie's hotness is at stake—and her life."

Fez moved his gaze across the field to the audience of spectators. Donna, Eric, Jackie, and Hyde all sat in front. Candles were sure to fall, but his friends were far enough not to get hurt by them.

"I'll just imagine Hershey's kisses are floating in the air," Fez said. "That should be helpful... yes?"

Before Kelso could answer, a trumpet's flourish signaled for all non-contenders to leave the competition space. He patted Fez's shoulder, "Good luck, buddy," and joined their friends in the audience.

Fez flexed his fingers and refocused on the candles being lit ahead. Overseeing the lighting was the competition judge. He held a golden staff, itself shaped like a golden candle. A downy white beard reached the middle of his paunchy stomach and fluttered in the night breeze.

"Welcome to the Jack-Be-Nimble, Jack-Be-Quick test of bravery!" the judge said. "The weather is almost perfect for tonight's festivities." He gestured to the candle's flickering flames with his staff. "No candles will be disqualified for going out; however, if any of our contenders should knock over the candles during their jumps, _he_ will be disqualified.

"The first five rounds consist of only one candle to be jumped, a seemingly simple task. Succulent meat will soon be cooking for dinner, gentlemen. Make a wish that none of your own meat does the same."

A blast from the trumpeter followed, and the contenders stood on their marks. Another blast, and they surged forward. Fez's toes dug into the dirt, and he cleared the first candle easily—as did the competition.

Three more heats like that, though, with the candles growing increasingly taller and thicker, disqualified half the contenders. Only seven jumpers remained, including Fez and Benedick. The candles were at their highest now, forty inches. If Fez could survive this round, he'd move onto the hurdling.

The trumpet blew, and Fez raced toward the tall candle with its tiny but intimidating flame. He sprang over it, legs scissored apart, and the flame's heat warmed his trailing thigh. But both feet landed in the dirt without hitting the candle. He'd made it.

Unlike four other competitors. They'd all knocked down their candles, and one had gotten burned.

"Very good, King Fez," Benedick said. He hardly seemed winded, and he'd landed several inches farther from his candle than Fez had. "But I daresay you don't have what it takes for a sustained run. You'd best mourn any potential heirs you hoped would inherit your kingdom."

The taunts heated Fez's cheeks, but he refused to respond, not even with a glare. It was un-kingly, but if Benedick wanted to act like an ignoble noble, unworthy of his dukedom, that was his choice.

A five minute break followed the last heat, allowing the first of the candle hurdles to be set up and the remaining contenders to get a rest. Kelso brought Fez some chocolate truffles from his emergency stash, which Fez gratefully devoured.

"Oh, Kelso, if there were a time I wish I weren't naked, it is now."

"Man, you almost got singed there. You need to bring your trailing leg up more—and make sure to let your knee be the leader over the candle, not the shin."

Fez looked at Kelso quizzically. "Since when do you know about hurdling?"

"It was part of my combat training at the police academy. Never knew when you had to jump over garbage cans when chasing a perp."

The trumpet flourished, and Kelso left him again. Five, two-foot candles were set up for each contender. Fez moved into position and charged forward at the trumpet's signal. He launched himself over each candle without losing any momentum and cleared all five without incident.

He planted his hands on his hips as another five-minute break commenced. The next candles would be nearly three-feet high but with only four of them to jump. He envisioned leaping over them with ease, yet that didn't guarantee victory. Years ago, he'd envisioned getting to third base with Big Rhonda, and she'd choked him when he tried it. He'd also envisioned a sexy marriage to Eric's sister, but then Snow White's stepmother possessed her.

His hands slipped from his hips, and he frowned. Why was Happy Ever After so hard to achieve?

The trumpet let out a blast, and Fez pumped his legs toward the candles. He sprang into the air some feet away, and passed over the first flaming hurdle. Three wide strides, and he passed over the second. Three strides more, and he passed over the third. One candle to go, but Fez's breath escaped him. A gossamer haze filled his head, and he could no longer keep track of his knees and his feet at the same time. He propelled himself over the candle, but his trailing leg sank in mid-jump. His ankle skimmed over the flame painfully, his body twisted in mid-air, and he hit the ground hard on his right knee.

"He's out!" Benedick shouted and laughed like a crazed fool. "King Fez is out!"

Fez's ankle throbbed hotly along with his bruised pride. He shut his eyes, more from shame than anything else. If he were indeed out, then Jackie and Hyde were out of luck.


	19. Glory Doesn't Last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 19  
 **GLORY DOESN'T LAST**  


Fez sat in the dirt, fanning his singed ankle, while Jackie screamed furious epithets in his direction. Hyde had to cover her naked body with fern fronds because her hands were too busy expressing the rest of her opinion. Eric, though, watched the goings-on with a lesser sense of urgency. Fez hadn't knocked down any of his candles, and— despite Benedick's claims to the contrary—that meant Fez was still in Jack-Be-Nimble test of bravery.

An older woman with loosely braided hair and sagging breasts brought Fez a few small leaves. He pressed them to his burn, and the contact seemed to soothe him. Benedick, however, appeared anything but soothed. He limped toward Fez, shouting, "No, you're disqualified! You hit the candle!"

The judge tutted. His long, wispy beard fluttered in the wind, and moonlight gleamed off his golden, candle-shaped staff. "The only one disqualified is Dromio," he said and approached Dromio's fallen candle.

Dromio kicked at the wax pillar before cursing and walking off, and Eric smiled. That meant Fez still had a chance. They all did.

"Eric," Donna grasped his wrist and jostled it, "you can hear what they're saying?"

"Yeah... can't you?"

"No," she said and laughed once, as if she were surprised.

But Eric was surprised himself. Fez, the judge, and Benedick stood a fair distance from them, but their voices were as clear to him as Donna's. Whatever the cause for his superb hearing—increased adrenaline, a fine-tuned physique—he had no complaints. So far, his enhanced senses were serving to be helpful, and he returned his attention to the competition area.

"But King Fez didn't land on his feet," Benedick said and slammed a fist into his palm. "Doesn't that—" The judge shook his head, and Benedick huffed. "Fine. Please grant me this boon, Your Majesty, and stand up."

Fez did so and winced, causing Benedick's expression to grow smug, but Fez glanced across the field and seemed to lock eyes with Jackie. "It is nothing."

Benedick waved at the candles being set up for the last heat. They had to be at least three-and-a-half feet tall. "But can you compete?"

Fez bent his knees and froze.

"King, Fez, _can you compete?_ "

"No, I can't, you sonuva—" Fez clenched his fist, " _noble!_ My knee is as bruised as my pride, damn it!"

Benedick raised his arms triumphantly, "Then I win by forfeit!" and his three men rushed to him from the sidelines. They clapped his bare shoulders, gave their congratulations, and the sight of all that naked man-flesh mingling made Eric avert his gaze.

"No!" Jackie shouted. She moved across the field to the competition area, forcing Hyde to follow if he wanted to keep covering her. Kelso joined them, as did Eric and Donna, and Jackie thrust her finger at Benedick's face. "Rich people are supposed to _help_ other rich people, but you don't want to help us. You're acting like a—like a poor person!"

Benedick's men gasped, but Benedick shrugged and said, "All's fair in competition. Had the contest gone the other way, I would've been glad to help. But King Fez lost, and I, Duke of Knackwürste, won."

"On a technicality—" Eric blurted, and another fact occurred to him. "Wait a minute. Weren't you limping a minute ago?"

Benedick scoffed. "I most assuredly was not."

Eric gestured to the nearest row of candles. "Walk there and back."

"I'll do no such thing.

"Walk to that candle, Bene _dick,_ " Fez said. He'd made it sound like a royal command, and Benedick opened his mouth but no sound came out. "Your Emperor will not be happy to hear you've created an inter-realm incident by denying a visiting sovereign such a tiny—"

"As you wish, Highness." Benedick bowed his head then hobbled to the candle and back. Fez smirked, but Benedick didn't seem fazed. "So? I can still compete in the next round, unlike you, which means I'm the winner by default."

The judge, who'd let the conversation go on without him thus far, now said, " _Run_ to the candle."

Benedick's eyes widened. "Tancredo, you must be joking."

"I'm sorry, Benedick, but we must be fair. If you cannot compete, then no winner can be declared yet."

_Yet?_ Eric looked at Donna, and she whispered, "Good eye."

"Benedick," the judge said.

Benedick sighed, "If I must," and began to run. His left leg landed in the dirt without a problem, but he collapsed when his right foot hit the ground. "Pixie mischief!"

The judge raised his golden staff and turned to the spectators. "It appears our remaining contenders have sustained injuries! They can choose proxy candle-jumpers if they wish. Or they can declare this night's contest a tie—"

"I'll choose a proxy," Fez and Benedick both said.

Benedick's men helped him stand and brought him out of earshot—what _should_ have been earshot—but Eric heard their conversation. It wasn't terribly interesting; they discussed whose legs were springier and the like. Kelso, meanwhile, started to take off his sword belt.

Fez touched Kelso's arm and stopped him. "I appreciate the thought, my friend, but your history with fire is less than encouraging.

Kelso re-fastened his sword belt. "Aw, man..."

"I can do it," Hyde said, "but I've had a lot of beer, so my balance is..." He tilted his hand back and forth, indicating wobbliness.

"What about me?" Donna said.

Eric squeezed her waist protectively. "This isn't the time for feminism, Donna. Be an activist later—"

She flashed him a dirty look. "What did you just say?"

"We can argue later, too," he said, "but right now, I've got a contest to win. I'll be your proxy, Fez. I do plyometrics regularly in my workouts—"

"Plyo-what-ics?" Kelso said.

"They're explosive exercises," Eric said, "to increase the power of my muscles."

Kelso burst into a grin. "You get to use explosives? Dude, you gotta let me in on that the next time I come ho—go back to Point Place."

"No, you idiot," Jackie said. "It means he can jump well. We practiced plyometrics on the cheer squad. If I were in my rightful body, I'd be the natural choice for Fez's proxy." She grabbed her fleshy waist. "But since I'm like this..."

"Eric, those candles are very high," Fez said, "and their flames are... _unpleasant._ Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Of course not," Eric cast a sideways glance at Donna, "but when have I ever been sure of anything?"

* * *

Adrenaline surged through Eric's body as he waited for the trumpet's signal. His hands were sweaty, and his heart beat against his eardrums, but Benedick's derisive comments meant nothing to him. Neither did Benedick's wiry stand-in, Cerimon. All that mattered was the distance between himself and the first of three candle hurdles.

He inhaled deeply a few times, saturating his lungs with oxygen. Then the trumpet sounded. He raced for the first candle. It was 40 inches high, and he sprang into the air, stretching his lead leg in front of him. The power in his jump sent him sailing over the candle's flame. He landed closer to the second candle than he would've liked, but he propelled himself over it without incident.

A miscalculation like that could've been avoided. With practice, he would've fine-tuned his technique, but he put that out of his mind. He had one last candle to go—then he and his friends were off to Erbse Island—but he leapt with less momentum than he wanted. His trailing thigh grazed against the candle flame. It scorched him, but he landed on his feet.

"Burn!" Kelso shouted from the sidelines, and Eric searched for his competition. Cerimon was rolling on the ground, as if he'd caught on fire. Both his first and second candles had fallen, and he stood up a moment later, torso covered in dirt.

"King Fez has won the Jack-Be-Nimble, Jack-Be-Quick test of bravery!" announced the judge. He hurried over to Eric with what passed for a medic, the saggy-breasted woman who'd given Fez those leaves.

"Ow, ow, ow..." The nerves of Eric's leg were growing hotter and hotter, and he looked down. A raw streak of blisters ran halfway up his thigh.

"Butter leaf?" the woman said and offered the leaves to him. They resembled aloe, long and tapered to a sharp point, only these were oily.

He took several from her then touched a leaf to a blister. The blister shriveled on contact.

_Bitchin'!_ He'd never seen such a thing before. It seemed like magic. Of course, what _wasn't_ magic around here?

He pressed leaves along the length of his burn, and the heat in his thigh disappeared—along with the burn itself. He brushed a hand over his healed skin— _incredible—_ while his other hand clutched the now-withered butter leaves. "Kelso should be carrying these things on him all the time," he said to himself.

"King Fez," the judge said, "if you would join us and accept your award?" The audience applauded as Fez returned to the competition area. Kelso, Donna, Jackie, and Hyde followed, and the judge snapped off the top of his golden staff. "It is my pleasure to present to you an Eternal Flame candle, made by Royal Dwarves. Once lit, it will not go out except by a special, secret word you give it upon its first lighting."

"Thank you," Fez said. He took the candle and held it up for the audience to see. Then he put it into his knapsack, which had been in Kelso's care.

"Huzzah, King Fez!" the audience cheered. "Huzzah!"

The judge swept his shortened staff in the air, over to where several cooking fires had been relit. People were loading what looked to be fresh meat onto spits and into kettles. "Dinner will be upon us in a few moments," the judge said. "Enjoy the night, ladies and gentleman!"

He left the competition area to speak with a few giggling women. They seemed smitten with him and stroked his long, wispy beard.

"Yes, 'Huzzah!' indeed," Benedick said and limped up to Fez. "Poor Cerimon burnt off half his chest hair. His wife won't be pleased..." He glowered. "You find something funny, Sir Kelso?"

Kelso was laughing. "Hey, a burn's a burn, and that was a a _real_ burn."

"Kelso, enough," Fez said, and Kelso's laughter stopped—mostly. "A deal is a deal, Benedick."

Benedick waved his hand dismissively. "Yes, yes. The yacht is yours, but I suggest we leave at dawn. Searching for peas in the dead of night won't be productive."

"If you do not stay true to your word," Fez's face grew stern, "we _will_ have a problem."

"I am a man of honor, Your Majesty," Benedick said and raised his chin. "We leave at dawn."

Donna embraced Eric once Benedick hobbled away. "I'm so proud of you," she said and pecked him on the lips. "Eric, you were amazing."

"Yeah, who knew your bony legs could carry you so far so fast?" Jackie said, but she was smiling. "I'd kiss you, too, if you weren't naked and—well, _you._ " She cuddled into Hyde's side but kept her body well-hidden behind the fern fronds. "Once we find this stupid pea that looks like another stupid pea, we can give it to the Naked Emperor—and get the hell out of this disgusting place."

"And go to hell itself," Hyde said.

"Steven—"

"If that dragon's still alive and catches us returning your ring, we're dead."

" _Ugh._ " Jackie moved away from him. "Could you let me bask in glory for longer than a few seconds?"

"Glory doesn't last much longer than that, so my timing was golden." He grinned at her, but she was growing visibly upset. Her eyes narrowed, and her face flushed.

Eric offered Donna his arm. "Shall we away ourselves from this burgeoning fight, m'lady?"

"Please." She rubbed her arm against his—the best she could without letting go of her fern fronds—and they headed for one of the circus-sized tents.

* * *

The next morning, the revelers were packing up their equipment. They dismantled the cooking spits and tents as the rising sun peeked over the horizon. A golden glow brightened the field and revealed everyone's nudity, but Eric had grown tired of so much naked flesh. After a while, the sight became numbing, and keeping his focus on Donna's body was too dangerous. He didn't need to be walking around with an erection, especially since he couldn't relieve it. Not the way he really wanted to.

He and Donna were sitting in the grass with their friends, and they ate a huge breakfast of sausages and apple cider. Well, _his_ breakfast was huge. He ate twice as much as everyone else, but he made no apologies. At least one of his appetites deserved to be satisfied. Donna's birth control pills were all the way back in the First Kingdom, inside her suitcase at Cinderella's castle. They had no condoms, either. So last night when Donna tried to reward his candle-hurdling prowess, their festivities had to be cut painfully short.

But now, watching her eat had very much the same effect on him. "Do you think we can put our clothes back on soon?" she said and licked sausage grease off her fingertips. "Because I'm sick of covering myself with leaves."

He grasped her wrist. "Donna, please don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Use your tempting tongue on your delicious fingers."

She chuckled. "Sorry."

"No need to cover yourself on my account, Big D," Kelso said. "I say, 'Let 'em loose!'"

"Yes." Fez grinned. "You are among friends."

"And we're both very friendly to twins." Kelso winked at Donna, and her cheeks grew red.

"Eric!" She nudged Eric's arm. "I can't believe you told them!"

"Wha—? No! 'Twins' is a very common name for breasts," Eric looked at Hyde for help, "right?"

"Nope," Hyde said. One of his hands was holding a fern frond over Jackie's chest. "Unlike you freaks, me and Jackie don't name our parts."

Silently, Jackie brought a cup of cider to her lips, but her expression shifted slightly, putting the lie to Hyde's words.

"Fess up, Jackie," Eric said. "What do you call your..."

The threat in Hyde's eyes shut Eric up, and the tension in Hyde's muscles warned him further. If Eric pursued this line of questioning, he'd be dealing with a bruised shoulder.

"Steven's right. We don't name our own parts." Jackie glanced sideways at Hyde, and he seemed to understand something deeper behind her words.

"It's true," Kelso said. "She never named anything of hers, but I gave Jackie's boobs lots of names—"

Hyde hurled his tin cup at Kelso's face, but Kelso dodged it. Had to be his combat training.

A few minutes later, they'd almost finished breakfast when Benedick and his three men approached. The four of them had on their baldrics, and their rapiers swung to and fro with their steps.

"Good morn', Your Highness," Benedick said and bowed his head. "Shall we away ourselves to my yacht?"

Fez stood up with his hands on his hips, fully exposing himself to Benedick and his men. "Yes, we are ready. Kelso, my sword."

"What?" Kelso was chewing on a sausage, and his eyes flicked to his and Fez's rapiers. They were lying in the grass beside him.

"I said, 'Sword!'"

Kelso jumped to his feet and handed Fez his rapier. Fez already had on his sword belt, and he put his rapier in its scabbard.

"Backpack," he said before Kelso could sit back down.

"You got it—I mean, 'Yes, sir!'" Kelso put the leather knapsack on Fez's shoulders, and Eric's mouth fell open. Sure, as Captain of the Guard, Kelso had to take Fez's orders—but he wasn't the royal family's whipped pig.

Afterward, Benedick brought everyone into the surrounding woods, where different smells vied for Eric's attention—animal musk, sweet sap, and woody nests high in the trees—but Eric focused inward. Kelso's subservience had left a disturbing mark on his thoughts. Kelso always did like to have someone making decisions for him, to boss him around. It meant he didn't have to be responsible for his own fate. Eric couldn't really blame him. Kelso's own choices tended to be bad ones.

The two miles later at Skinny Dipping Lake, Eric's senses returned to the world around him. The sun glittered on the water like bright, winking eyes. Tufts of spiky sedge lined the lake bank, and the scent of mint hung in the air.

Two docks jutted into the lake, but only one boat was moored—Benedick's wooden yacht. It was the same kind of boat Eric and his friends had sailed to River Town, just bigger. The steam engine stuck out from the yacht's cubby, and it probably had a nice cabin below deck, too.

"I can't see the island from here," Jackie said. She was gazing out over the lake. "How far away is it?"

"With my yacht, an hour," Benedick said.

His men unfurled the mainsail once everyone was on board. Cerimon got the engine running while Benedick sat at the rudder. He kept the yacht on a steady course over the water, and Donna said to him, "Can we put our clothes on now? It's cold out here."

"I'm afraid that's quite impossible. The laws of the Fifth Kingdom explicitly state no one but visiting sovereigns, nobles, and their ilk from the other kingdoms may be clothed. You may be the king's friends, but you are not nobles. It would be an insult to the Naked Emperor—"

"But he's not even here."

"Yes, but _I_ am," Benedick said, not smiling. "You wouldn't want me to report that King Fez's retinue had recklessly flouted a decree as old as the Fifth Kingdom itself, would you?"

"If no one challenges a ridiculous rule," Donna said, "it won't change. Someone has to take a stand."

"Not you, and not now," Eric said and guided her away from the stern. He shared her indignation at their forced nudity, but her fiery temper could get her tossed overboard.

They moved past the cubby, where the engine puffed clouds of white smoke. Kelso and Fez were at the bow, talking about something Eric likely didn't want to know about. Hyde and Jackie had gone below deck, likely _doing_ something Eric didn't want to know about. So he brought Donna to the boat rail, and their butts pressed against the cubby's shelter. Their eyes didn't meet. Instead they faced the water and watched the frothy bow wake pass by.

"That's the second time you've done that to me," she said after a while.

"Done what?"

"'This isn't the time for feminism, _Donna._ Be an activist later.' Ring a bell?"

Eric felt her stare on him—the heat of her breath warmed his cheek—but he kept his gaze on the water. "Look, when we get back home to the safety of Wisconsin, you can protest things all you want. But here, where some magical spell could turn us to stone for saying the wrong word?" His cheek cooled. She was no longer staring at him, which prompted him to face her. "We don't belong here, Donna. These aren't our problems to solve."

"Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere." The set to her jaw was hard, and her fingers gripped the boat rail until her knuckles were white. "Martin Luther—"

"King, Jr. I know. I was in Modern American History with you, remember?"

He clutched the boat rail, too, and his head drooped. When their college class studied the Civil Rights Movement, they'd spent long nights discussing it. Donna's passion for the topic awed him, and he envied her. But people like them couldn't change the world, not without making huge sacrifices.

"I just want..." he inched his fingers closer to hers on the railing, "I just want my life, _our_ life. You know, where I'm teaching, and you're writing newspaper articles, and we eventually have the kids that my mom and your dad will spoil."

Donna's grip on the railing loosened, and she hooked her pinky over his fingers. "I want that, too, Eric, but I also want to make the the world better... so _other_ people can have what we have. Or, at least, the freedom to pursue it. If I write an exposé on a corrupt politician, I'll be putting my life at risk just as much at home as I would here."

Eric swallowed, and his throat grew tight. "So you're planning on being my wife for a few years then making me a widower?"

"No." She became silent, and within her blue eyes he spotted a shift. She cupped the back of his head, and her fingers combed through his hair. "My life with you comes first. I'm not going to risk that, but I'm also not going to live as if I'll _lose_ our life together every time I speak up about something."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay. That's fair." He slid his palms up her bare arms, not caring that the contact sent warm shivers deep into his body. Erections be damned, he was gonna hug his woman.

"Eric," she was giggling, "we're in public."

"Didn't stop us from doing it at the 'Take Back the Night' feminist rally."

But they only kissed as Benedick's yacht sailed toward Erbse Island. The next ten minutes were more than enjoyable—until Kelso and Fez became their audience. The makeout ended abruptly, and Eric thought every unsexy thought he could to soften himself up.

They arrived at the island about a half-hour later. Benedick's men moored the boat to the single dock, and everyone disembarked. The island didn't seem very large. Eric could probably run the whole circumference in a couple of hours.

"As you can see," Benedick said, pointing past the dock, "the island's outer perimeter is covered in ripe pea plants. A dense wood lies at the center, but I would avoid entering..." He smiled unpleasantly. "You might never find your way out."

"Are wolves in there?" Eric said.

Benedick's smile faded. "Wolves are never in the Fifth Kingdom. They were banished ages ago, and they're easy to distinguish from men. They remained clothed as not to reveal their tails, but it's a fruitless endeavor. By remaining clothed, they mark themselves." He held up three burlap sacks. "These are for you. You'll have to go in pairs. Erbse is small, so I advise you to search in as many areas as you can for variety. Bring back whatever peas you gather to me, and I'll begin the laborious task of finding an exact match to the stolen Princess Pea."

"So you're not going with us?" Jackie said.

"I'm afraid that's quite impossible. None of you know what the Princess Pea looks like, and someone has to sort through them."

"Can you give us a freakin' clue what we're looking for?" Hyde said.

"The subtleties in shape and color are impossible to explain. It would take years of studying the Princess Pea in contemplative silence for a commoner to absorb its many mysteries, its—"

Hyde snatched one of the sacks from Benedick. "Cram it." Then he nodded at Jackie, and they left the dock together.

Kelso and Fez went off together, too, and Donna led Eric in the opposite direction. She stopped him once the dock was no longer visible and took off her knapsack. Then she pulled her teal dress from it, her bra and panties, and began to dress.

"What are you doing?" Eric said.

"Benedick's not watching. We'll go nude again before we return to the boat."

He gave her an admiring grin, "You are one clever lady," and got dressed. Laurie's pouch of seeds was inside his slacks pocket. He felt safer having them on him, not that he knew why.

Fully-clothed, he and Donna set to their tedious chore. They picked swollen pea pods off plants, opened them, and dumped the freed peas into their sack. The repetitive action reminded him too well of how it felt to wake up in the morning, go through his day, and go to sleep. Wake up, go through his day, and go to sleep. Laurie's commandment to him had changed all that. And though he didn't relish the task of uncovering some family secret—or that Hyde and Jackie were cursed —it was exciting being here.

Donna tapped his shoulder as he broke a fat pea pod off its stem. "What's wrong?" she said.

"Oh." He pulled open the pod and shook the peas into the sack."It's just... you know who you are, right? Donna Pinciotti-Forman, passionate about equality for all, human rights, that kinda stuff. Hyde's got music and rebelling against corruption," he raised his clenched fist, " _fighting 'The Man'._ Kelso's got his Captain-of-the-Guard thing. Fez is a freakin' king, and Jackie's—well, she's passionate about _Jackie,_ becoming famous so others can be passionate about her, too."

"So?" Donna said. "You're becoming a teacher."

"But is that who I really am? I basically chose that by default because I couldn't do anything else." He gestured for Donna to follow him to another group of plants. "Oh, and I liked the idea of kids calling me 'Mr. Forman'. Whoopee."

"Okay... you _just_ said on Benedick's yacht that you wanted that life.

"I do... I mean, yeah, I want _our_ life—where we get to do what makes us happiest—but I'm not sure being a teacher is it for me."

They continued to collect peas, but Donna kept glancing at him. Several minutes passed, and Kelso and Fez raced by them, sparring against each other with their rapiers. Fez was still naked, but Kelso had put on his pants.

"You shall not get my peas, you scoundrel!" Fez shouted. He parried a blow from Kelso's sword. Then he ran off. A wall of trees stood to his right, and he disappeared around it.

"I _shall_ have them!" Kelso shouted back and gave chase.

They were playing a game, and Eric hoped they remembered why they were here: to get them all the hell _out_ of the Fifth Kingdom—for Hyde and Jackie's sake.

Donna tossed a handful of peas into the sack. Then, unexpectedly, she slid her arms around Eric's waist and drew him close. "Snow White said you were 'standing on the edge of greatness'."

He laughed and gazed up at the late-morning sky. Snow White had said a lot of things, most of which he had trouble believing. " _You are far stronger, Eric,_ " she'd said, " _far braver, far more deserving than you've ever allowed yourself to realize. You are not as lost as you think you are._ "

His hand went to his pocket, and his palm pressed against the seed pouch. Yeah, he was _more_ lost. "What do you _want_ to be," Donna said. "No limits, Eric. Just speak your heart."

"A Jedi." The answer escaped him as naturally as his breath. Sure, Leia had chosen Han in _The Empire Strikes Back_ , but Eric had Donna—and he was devoted to her. What he needed was the same kind of dedication Luke had for his Jedi training. He needed to find his true calling.

"Okay, you may not become a Jedi," she clutched the back of his shirt and tugged on it affectionately, "but you're the champion candle-jumper of the Fifth Kingdom. That's a start."

He laughed again, this time without any bitterness, and he finally returned her embrace. "Thank you," he said.

"Any time."


	20. Upping the Ante

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 20  
 **UPPING THE ANTE**  


Steven tossed pea pods into the burlap sack. He griped at Jackie to pick off pods, too, but harvesting vegetables was too menial a task. She was Jackie-freakin'-Burkhart, not a farmer. Besides, hefting the forty extra pounds she now carried tired her out. Her body wasn't used to it yet. Just walking at her regular pace had become a chore, causing her breathing to grow labored and her heart to pound. And the sensation of her thighs rubbing together made her cringe.

She was wearing Snow White's burgundy dress again. She and Steven had finished with being naked, and as soon as they couldn't see Benedick's yacht anymore, they'd gotten re-dressed. Her skin needed protection from all the nature surrounding it. The island's perimeter was covered by pea plants, grass, and scrub. Stepping through it, even with her boots on, wasn't an easy task

Occasionally, eerie tones whistled through the air. They originated from the island's center, from the creepy forest Benedick warned them not to enter. She shuddered at every strange chirrup and warble, but Steven didn't seem to notice them. He led her around the forest's dense wall, and she said, "What if natives pop out of the trees like in _Gilligan's Island?_ I can't let them see me like this."

"What're you talking about? Your clothes are back on."

She tapped the knapsack strap on his shoulder, and he glanced back at her. "No, _this._ " She grabbed the upper roll of her stomach.

"You're still hot as hell," he said. He was facing her now, and the sack of pea pods dangled from one of his hands.

"Yes, but it's not _me._ It would be fine if I were Donna," she said and gestured to her hair. "That amazon was saddled with uggo orange like this from birth, and she's always had a few extra pounds. But I've worked too hard at being thin to be fat. I went on a diet from my normal diet to fit into my wedding dress. How are you supposed to marry a fatso, Steven? I won't fit into my dress!"

"You haven't bought your dress yet... and you're not fat. You just got more to grab onto." He let the sack fall to the ground and ran his hands over her hips. His touch ignited little sparks between her thighs, and she momentarily forgot what she looked like. "Don't have to be anything but you, doll. Thinner, fatter... whatever. The way you kept giving Benedick the business, man, that was all you."

A subtle smile graced his lips, and his unshaded eyes were nothing but warm. Never in any of her fantasies did she conjure this version of him... one so accepting, so devoted. She didn't attract these kinds of men to her. She attracted ones who'd drop her at the prospect of something better, which is why she fought so hard to be the best there was—

But she couldn't be the best anymore.

She moved her gaze from his face to her engagement ring. Its diamond was as blue as his eyes but nowhere near as warm. "Right," she said. "I've seen all the skanks you went for before me, Steven."

Her pulse tightened at the acid tone of her voice. The words were awful, and she didn't want to say them, but the curse—it _had_ to be—was forcing the remaining bits of insecurity out of her mouth. The way Steven had looked at her broadcasted how in love with her he was. Yet doubt infested her like maggots, gnawing at her wounded, too-often broken heart.

"Remember what happened," she said, "after I broke up with Michael?"

"Which time?"

"When he cheated on me with Laurie."

"You went all psycho and stalked me," he said, but amusement undercut his words. Just like in Kissing Town, he was being patient. _Thank God_ because she didn't know what her horrible, cursed mind would let loose next.

"No, I ate out of depression and put on ten pounds, which I didn't take off until after the New Year. When we went on our first date, Veteran's Day, I wasn't entirely my super-cute self."

"Huh" He put a finger beneath her chin and gently lifted her gaze. His eyes held as much warmth as before. "You weren't your super-abrasive self either."

"I wasn't?" she said, and finally the tiny, painful bites inside her chest relented.

"Nope. I was pretty damn surprised by it, too. Kept your mouth shut for thirty whole minutes, and when you finally opened it, I enjoyed that... a lot."

"You mean the kiss?"

"Yeah." His palms glided hotly over her cheeks, and his fingertips rested by her ears. "Best damn kiss I had—until we kissed again."

He drew himself to her until their lips met, and he kissed her deeply, holding nothing back. The pressure of his mouth elicited a gasp of surprise, but the slick, soft connection of his tongue destroyed her ability to stand. She grabbed onto his shirt to keep from falling, and his lean but muscular arms caught her.

He'd mastered the balance between strength and tenderness long ago—at least where kissing was concerned—and as they parted, an ecstatic current arced across her nerves. Her eyes had trouble staying more than half open, so encompassing was the feeling he'd given her.

"That's what I remember," he said, "that kiss, not if you were ten pounds heavier." He made sure she was steady on her feet before letting her go. "So quit freaking out, okay? And pick up some damn peas."

He shoved the burlap sack at her, and she did as he said... _slowly._ Her fingers ripped a pod off its stem and curled around it. "Baby, I know I'm a great kisser and all, but why was _that_ the best kiss?"

"'Cause I felt something." He was kneeling by a cluster of pea plants and breaking off pods. "But each kiss afterward steals the title from the one before. We're that good, man."

"Wait, you felt something during that kiss? On the date, you said you didn't."

"Right."

"Why did you say that?"

He put a handful of pea pods into the sack and arched an eyebrow. "Why did you?"

"Because I didn't feel anything."

"Well, there you go."

Jackie squeezed the pea pod clenched inside her palm. Pea guts oozed out in the spaces between her fingers. "So you lied to me?"

"Who gives a shit? It's over. We're together."

"But we could've been together so much sooner if you'd just told me the truth." She rubbed her pea-smeared palm on his jeans. It would probably leave a stain.

"How do you figure?" he said and glanced down at his leg. His eyes narrowed upon glimpsing the green spot, but he moved onto another plant and started harvesting.

"If I'd known you felt something then, maybe I wouldn't have have kissed Todd."

"Who?"

"The Cheese Guy."

Steven let out a mild chuckle. "Oh. 'Little Thunder-Fists'."

"Look," she knelt down beside him in the scrub, "when I got back together with Michael, I'd already started to feel connected to you again. If you'd just told me the truth, maybe I—"

He turned toward her. "What's this really about, Jackie?"

"You, Steven. Me. You don't tell me half the things you're really feeling."

"I'm starting to feel real pissed. How's that?"

Jackie dropped the sack. She pulled Steven's hand off the pea plant and held it. "Why didn't you tell me you felt something during that kiss?"

"Because there wasn't any point." His eyes flicked away from her. "Like I was gonna tell you if you felt nothing—after all your months of stalking, all my months of evading you—and have you laugh at the irony..." He withdrew his hand and went back to picking pea pods. "Whatever, okay? I don't wanna fucking talk about this."

"But I need you to." Her breath grew short, and tears stormed her now-shut lashes. "Maybe it'll help us learn why we're cursed."

"Fine," he said, and she looked at him with wet, blurry eyes. "You were the first chick I'd felt something above the belt for after Donna. The kiss just got it through my skull... Didn't want that crap blowing up in my face again."

He snatched up the sack of pea pods and walked off, to a plant several feet from her. "Why didn't you tell me," she shouted after him, "once we got togeth—"

"I'm done talking, Jackie."

Fine." She stood up and crossed her arms. "Then so am I."

"Whatever."

"Don't you 'whatever' _me,_ Steven Hyde. I 'whatever' _you._ " She kept her arms crossed and mentally shot darts into his back as he continued to gather peas.

* * *

Fez was holding the burlap sack above his head, and Kelso threw peas at it. He made most of his shots, which was awesome, and it gave him an idea. "Hey, you know what the Nine Kingdoms need?"

" _Charlie's Angels?_ " Fez said. "That is another thing I miss about Amedica: the bountiful bouncy breasts on television."

"No, man, _basketball!_ Yeah, you could have teams of Elves and Trolls playing against each other."

"And we would have a court full of dead Elves. No, there is too much disharmony here between differing races and creeds—just as there is back through the mirror." Fez lowered the sack, but one of Kelso's peas had already left his fingers. It struck Fez between the eyes. "Ai!"

"Oops, sorry!" Kelso dashed to Fez's side and took the sack from him. "You're lucky I didn't bean ya in the beanbags. Dude, you should really wear your pants."

"Pepé likes the fresh air," Fez said. Then he waved Kelso to an area free of scrub, and Kelso was pleased. He hated walking through that stuff. The pea plants were more spread out here, but maybe that meant the peas would look different, having more room to grow.

"Y'know," Kelso said and set to tearing pods of plants, "all this cursed stuff between Jackie and Hyde'll make a great story for Betsy—especially if _I'm_ the one who figures out how to break the curse."

"Kelso, it is not a joke. More than their love is at stake."

"Yeah, well, what's the big deal about being in love anyway?" One-by-one, Kelso pulled his pods open. His fingers dug inside their soft shells, and he shoved peas into the sack. "I thought I was in love with Jackie, and see how that turned out?"

"Many things disguise themselves as love," Fez said.

"How are supposed to tell which is real and which isn't?"

"According to my grandmother—"

"Snow White?" Kelso struggled to open a skinny pea pod. His fingernails pierced the shell, but the pod flew from his hands.

"Yes. According to her, true love never dies. It never withers. It may grow dormant, as if put under a sleeping spell, but it can be reawakened again."

"Oh." Kelso retrieved the skinny pea pod, but it still resisted being opened. He broke the thing in half, and the small peas tumbled onto the dirt. "Damn! Come back here!" They rolled several feet away, but he was determined to get them.

He followed their trail on his hands and knees. The peas had landed in a cantaloup-sized depression, and five plumb-sized depressions sat, evenly spaced, above the bigger one.

He stood up for a better look and scratched his head. "Fez, did dinosaurs roam the Nine Kingdoms?"

"What?" Fez joined him by the footprint. "Oh, no."

"It _is_ a dinosaur! All right! I bet if we find a bone, we can make it rich back in Wisconsin. Oh, wait..." Kelso tapped his chin. "That print looks fresh, which means the dinosaur's still alive." He gasped. "No, I got it! We'll use Wolfsbane. That'll paralyze it. Then we can drag it with us—"

"That is no dinosaur, you pinbrain! That's a Troll footprint."

"No way." Kelso touched his left arm. His fingers closed over the scar Bluebell had given him. "They all wanna kill me."

"They're not very fond of me, either," Fez said and pulled him forward, "even though I pardoned the heirs to their throne. Let us be wary."

Kelso nodded, and from then on, his hand remained closer to his rapier.

* * *

Donna stuffed peas into the pockets of Eric's suit jacket. She was wearing it now for convenience. Her dress had no pockets, and carrying twice the amount of peas at once would fill the sack faster. Eric was holding it now. The sack had gotten heavy, and he was collecting peas by the forest wall while she gathered them closer to the lake bank.

"Donna," he said, but the rest she couldn't quite make it out. He was too far away. She asked him to repeat it, and he shouted, "There was another reason I changed my mind about the honeymoon."

He sounded nervous, but the shouting might've strained his voice. Her back was to him, so she couldn't see his face. She was on a roll with shelling peas, and she didn't want to interrupt herself by turning around.

" _The Empire Strikes Back_ really got to you, didn't it?" she yelled back. "Were you hoping something like this would happen? An adventure?" She plucked several pods from the plants and set them on her knee. "You don't have to prove yourself anymore, not to me." She waited for Eric to respond, but he didn't, so she continued. "I mean, I was surprised you wanted to go through the mirror again after what happened with Laurie."

Still no response. He would have said something by now, wouldn't he? Her pulse quickened, and she turned around. Eric no longer stood among the plants, and the burlap sack was on the ground with peas spilling out of it.

"Eric?" She dashed to the wall of trees. Drag marks were in the dirt beside the sack, and they disappeared into the forest. Pink dust sprinkled both the spilled peas and dirt. "Oh, no—"

Trolls had taken her husband.

* * *

Hyde was impressed. During their last hour of pea-collecting, Jackie had given him peace by keeping her trap shut—entirely. It was the longest silent treatment she'd ever managed. In fact, she was so quiet he'd forgotten she was there.

But he remembered soon enough. Her breathing had grown heavier, probably from frustration. He refused to look at her, though. All her questions, man, and her pushing—they drove him freakin' nuts. Yeah, they were cursed, but he wasn't gonna let her use that excuse to manipulate him.

"Jackie," he'd say occasionally, but that was as far as he'd go. The things he kept locked tight were locked tight for a reason. Letting out that shit would do more harm than good, to both of them.

"I'm not playing your game," he said as they moved from the current cluster of plants. Hell, he wasn't playing _any_ game, and each time she didn't answer him, he grew tempted to give her a stronger reminder.

* * *

Jackie had been shouting at Steven's back for the last hour, but he'd said nothing but her name. He hadn't ignored her so thoroughly since before they got back together, and her anger grew beyond the secrets he'd kept about himself. No, she was furious he could still shut her out like this.

He was leading her now to another part of the island, presumably to get more peas, and he finally said something substantial: "I'm not playing your game."

But she wasn't playing his, either. She charged him and kicked his calf from behind. He crashed onto the scrub, and the burlap sack flew into the air then landed beside his head.

"And there's always the old standby," he said and pushed himself up. He scooped peas back into the sack. "You shouldn't go against me, Jackie. You won't win."

At last, he faced her, and she laughed scornfully. "Oh, that is such bullshit, Steven, I've won plenty of times." But he furrowed his brow as if he didn't believe her. "What? I have."

"Is this a new one?"

"New what?"

He was laughing now, and she didn't like it.

"What the hell's so funny?" she said.

"Jackie, whatever." His laughter died down. "Cut it out."

She swatted his shoulder. "Steven! I'm not doing anything. _You_ are."

"'Steven! I'm not doing anything." He was mouthing her words back silently, mockingly.

"Oh, you are in _so_ much trouble!" She swung her foot at his shin, and it connected. He doubled over with a small grunt. _Good._ She hoped it hurt.

"Jackie, what the hell?" he said and rubbed his leg. "Is the curse making you act all immature, or is it just you?" He straightened up after a moment and waited for her answer with crossed arms.

"You looked like an idiot," she said.

"Yeah, I caught that one. I only looked that way 'cause _you_ look that way. Just freakin' talk already." He shook his head and blew out a breath. "Man..." Then he turned his back on her.

"But I am talking. Steven, I am..." She slapped a hand over her mouth and spoke through her fingers. "Oh, God, you can't hear me, can you?" She tapped his arm, and—thankfully—he turned around again. "Steven," she said slowly, "can you hear me?"

He screwed up his face. "Can I 'ear' you?"

No," she grasped his earlobes and pinched them, "'HEAR!' Can you _hear_ me?"

He pried her fingers off him. "Damn it! Jackie, you're... shit." He twisted the skin of her forearm, and she cried out. "No way you faked tha—Jackie, I can't hear you."

The fear in his voice hurt her more than her raw, squeezed skin. She shouldn't have kicked him, shouldn't have wished pain on him. "I can hear myself," she said, "but my voice must be inside my head."

"Fuck." The sack of peas slipped from his fingers, and he cupped the sides of her face. "Time to take off the ring," he said, but she frowned. "Come on, Grasshopper." His thumbs caressed her cheeks, far more gently than she deserved. "The curse just upped the ante."

"No." She curled her left fist in case he tried something. It would be an easy thing to do, to thrust the burden onto him. But no matter how much he infuriated her, she wouldn't betray him like that. Because it _would_ be a betrayal. "We'll find another way, Puddin'."

"Okay..." he picked up the sack of peas and shook it, "then we're going back to Bent-dick and giving him these. And he better find a pea he likes, or I'm cramming them down his throat."


	21. Top of the Heap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. "Night Fever" copyright 2007 Barry Gibb, Robin Gibb and The Estate of Maurice Gibb, under exclusive license to Warner Strategic Marketing Inc., a Warner Music Group Company.

CHAPTER 21  
 **TOP OF THE HEAP**  


Donna thought better of plunging into the island's forest. Searching for Eric alone wasn't a smart idea. If Trolls had him, she'd be dead without some kind of weapon. Even with a sword or dagger, she wasn't a trained fighter. Nightmares still plagued her of the Troll King's children, and her toes bore the memory of how they'd tortured her.

No, she needed help.

She raced along the island's perimeter, and its vegetation rubbed against her legs. Running in a stupid dress wasn't ideal, but she found Fez and Kelso not too far away.

"Hey, Big D," Kelso said. The burlap sack was in his hands, and he flicked a pea at her.

"Eric's been kidnapped by Trolls!" she shouted.

Fez frowned. "Ai, no."

She gestured to the forest wall, "They dragged him through the trees," and ran forward, but Fez dashed to her side and stopped her. "Come on, they're gonna kill him!" She pulled on his arm, but he wouldn't move.

"Trolls don't kill their hostages, not without long bouts of torture," he said. "Eric may be in pain, but he will be safe for a while. We must bring our peas to Benedick so he can sort through them. "

Kelso nodded and put on his deep Captain-of-the-Guard voice. "Eric's a screamer, so it won't be too hard to find him once we start looking." Then he pointed to the scar on his left arm. "Don't worry. I've kicked Troll ass before."

Donna clenched her fists. She didn't like waiting, hated the idea that Eric was being hurt, but what choice did she have? More than just her husband's life was in danger right now. "Let's go," she said and led the way to Benedick's yacht.

* * *

Hyde and Jackie sat naked on a cushioned bench as Benedick rejected pea-after-pea. They'd returned to the boat about a half-hour ago and gone below deck with their burlap sack. Just sitting around wasn't Hyde's strong suit—kicking someone's ass would've made him feel better—but he forced himself to remain calm. The curse had tightened its hold on Jackie, stolen her voice. Less than two hours without it, and he already wanted it back.

The room they sat in was some kind of office. Pompous-looking portraits of Benedick decorated the walls. Their gilded frames shone in the sunshine pouring from the skylight. Bejeweled lanterns dangled on hooks, and a closed door behind Benedick's desk probably led to sleeping quarters. The bastard was rich as hell, and if Hyde got the chance, he'd swipe something from him.

"No, this one won't do," Benedick kept saying. He held a magnifying glass up to each pea he inspected. Two earthenware bowls stood before him on the desk, one full of rejected peas and the other containing possible Princess Pea substitutes. Hyde's arm had settled around Jackie's waist, and every time Benedick tossed a pea into the reject pile, she heaved a sigh.

"It's gonna be cool, doll," Hyde whispered after the 281st reject. He was keeping count. "We're gettin' outta here one way or the other."

She nodded, but her fallen face told him the truth—that her hope was waning.

Two-dozen more rejected peas later, the cabin stairs creaked beside them. Kelso, Fez, and Donna had returned with only one sack of peas. Kelso dropped the sack on the desk, and Benedick said, "Ah, good. I've found only a few contenders so far—and they're distant cousins at best."

Donna was clutching her fern fronds with white knuckles. Something was wrong. Hyde stood from the bench and clasped her bare shoulder. "Hey," he said, "where's Forman? You two have an 'old, married couple' fight?"

"He's been taken by Trolls!"

Hyde stiffened, and Jackie gasped a voiceless, breathy gasp on the bench. He peered over at her, and she mouthed slowly, "Of course the dumbass would get kidnapped."

Donna approached her. "Jackie?"

"Her voice is gone," Hyde said, and Jackie wiggled her left fingers in the air. Noon light glinted off her engagement ring.

"Man, why does Hyde get all the luck?" Kelso said. "That's, like, the best engagement present ever. She never lost her voice with me when we were together, and she once spoke for three days straight."

Jackie scowled at him, and Hyde imagined the nasty insults she probably wanted to hurl, but Fez said, "No, it is the curse. It's progressing." He turned to Hyde. "Ai... Jackie's horrible, demanding voice. I'm sorry, Hyde. I will miss hearing her scream your name at night."

"When did you hear that?" Kelso said.

"I still visit certain closets from time-to-time," Fez said, and Jackie's scowl deepened. "I am King. Do not question me."

Hyde's jaw clenched. He'd have to scour their closets for freakin' magical bugs when they got home.

"I'm sorry Jackie lost her voice," Donna said, "but Eric's gonna lose his life if we don't find him. I can't stand around here anymore."

"Yeah, okay," Hyde said. "Kelso and I will go after Forman. You guys stay—"

Donna shook her head. "No. No way. That's my husband!"

Jackie was on her feet now, and she clung to Hyde's arm. Her breath heated his skin in puffs, and he looked at her. "Don't go," she mouthed. "Don't go."

"Can't leave him out there." He cupped her face and pecked her lips, but the fear in her eyes held firm. "You'll be safe here."

"Yes, you'll have your very own king to keep you company," Benedick said. His fingers drummed on the desk, and he appeared entirely too satisfied.

Fez glared at him."What are you talking about? I'm going to the forest."

"I'm afraid that's quite impossible, Your Highness. I need someone to help me sort."

Fez put his hands on his waist and stuck out his chest. "I am King of the Fourth Kingdom. I don't have to do what you say."

"Yes, but I've got you by the peas. If you don't help me sort, I might give the Princess Pea substitute to the Emperor... and I might not."

"Fez, man, just do it," Hyde said and pulled Fez aside. "I need you to look after Jackie, okay?"

Fez's brow furrowed, and his hand gripped his rapier hilt. Seemed like he would argue until... "Damn!" He unbuckled his sword belt, but Hyde refused. Having his own weapon in the forest would've been nice, but he didn't want Jackie undefended around these naked, sword-carrying freaks. "Go find Eric," Fez said and re-buckled his belt, "and, please be careful."

"But I need food!" Kelso said. He was rubbing his stomach.

Hyde grimaced. "You'll eat on the way, moron. My knapsack is crammed with sausages." He took off his knapsack, opened it, and passed Jackie two dark-red chorizos. "One's for Fez." He didn't know how long he'd be gone, and he couldn't leave them starving.

She stared at the chorizos wrapped in rough cloth. Then she glanced up at him. "I love you," she mouthed, but he wouldn't say it back. If he did, it could mean he wouldn't _come_ back. Fuckin' irony worked that way—at least for him.

"Benedick," Donna said, "do you have any extra weapons on this boat?" but the smug bastard said no. "Then what about lending us one of your men?"

"I'm afraid that's quite impossible. I need my men to guard my yacht in case the Trolls try to attack it."

"The Emperor will hear of this," Fez said and snatched a chorizo from Jackie.

Benedick put down his magnifying glass and offered a Fez an arrogant smile. "Hear of what? If you don't survive, he'll hear of nothing. If you do survive, then you didn't need my weapons or my men after all, did you?"

"It's probably dark in the forest." Donna waved to the bejeweled lanterns on the wall. "Can we—can we at least have a lantern?"

She was doing her best to hold steady, but it had to be tough. No pretty images entered Hyde's own mind when he thought of Forman dealing with Trolls. He grasped Donna's hand, hoping to give her whatever strength he could spare. She accepted the gesture, curling her fingers around his palm.

"So the lantern?" she said, and before Benedick could agree or refuse, Fez pulled out his prize from the Jack-Be-Nimble contest—the Eternal Flame candle.

He also plucked a lantern off the wall to Benedick's sputtering objection. "The Emperor will hear of your generosity," Fez said then snapped his fingers at Kelso. "Match."

Kelso produced a match from his bundled pack. "That's the last one I brought from ho—Point Place. I used up all the others."

"Spare me the details," Fez whispered and went to a corner of the office. He held Benedick's lantern between his bare thighs, and Benedick winced. The sight of his possession so close to Fez's stones couldn't have thrilled him. But Fez lit the Eternal Flame candle and whispered something to it. Then he replaced the regular candle in the lantern with the magic one.

The flame blazed brightly behind the lantern's glass. He handed the lantern to Donna, and the candlelight dimmed slightly. With it, she led the way up the cabin stairs, and Fez followed closely behind, but Hyde paused at the fourth step..

"Jackie," he said, and Jackie perked up her sullen head, "I'll see you." He lay his palm flat against his chest. She did the same against hers, beneath the fern frond, and he felt some relief. She'd gotten his meaning.

Outside on the island—and far from the sight of Benedick's yacht—Hyde, Donna, and Kelso put on their clothes again. Donna brought them to the drag marks that went into the forest. Pink Troll dust partially covered them and a sack of spilled peas.

"Will Wolfsbane do anything against Trolls?" she said.

Kelso clutched the sack of Wolfsbane pellets dangling from his belt. "No, they're immune." Then he took the lantern from her, clearly intending to take the lead. It wasn't from arrogance. It was experience, and Hyde had to admit the guy had grown.

The three of them squeezed between the trees and were enveloped by a strange kind of darkness. Hyde glanced up at the canopy. Sunlight should have streamed in through the leaves, but a glowing blackness outlined everything instead—as if the sun were the bright filament inside a black bulb. His hands were visible to him, as were his friends. He could see their surroundings just fine but not what lay ahead of them. It had to be magic, and he kept his focus on the the lantern.

"Kelso," he said, "can you make out a path?"

Kelso lowered the lantern toward the ground. "Yeah. There are Troll footprints in the dirt. I think I can step in them—yup."

They moved forward at a brisk pace, and Donna stayed by Hyde's shoulder. Discordant notes whistled through the trees as they went, and her breath quickened beside him. They clearly weren't alone in this forest, but if some huge, enchanted bird got in their way, it was gonna meet the sharp end of Kelso's sword. Hyde would make sure of it.

* * *

An acrid, meaty smell hit Eric first, but it was the thing jabbing his back that opened his eyes. He was lying on top of something— _somewhere—_ with his hands roped tightly in front of him. A joisted ceiling stood several feet above his nose, and a guttural voice sang the Bee Gee's "Night Fever" from the same direction as the sharp odor. He angled his head to the right, but his eyes were met by a stone wall. Last he remembered, he'd been hit in the face with Troll dust...

_Oh, God._ He'd been captured by a thing jabbing his back really hurt, so he rolled onto his side and discovered a ratty mattress beneath him, but now the thing stuck into his ribs. He sat up with some effort and yelped in surprise as the thing poked his butt. _What the hell was it?_

He scooted himself forward, but the thing seemed to follow him. He scooted himself all the way to the edge of the mattress, but the thing continued to jut against his butt cheek. And he wasn't sitting on just one mattress. His legs were dangling over a whole ratty pile of them, twelve-feet high.

The guttural voice continued to sing "Night Fever" but with significant lyric changes. Eric scooted on his butt to the mattresses' longer edge and spotted a Troll below him, stirring a cast iron pot over a fireplace. It was a version of a Dutch oven, only the pot sat directly on the fire instead of hanging from metal crane. The Troll occasionally dropped in sausages from Eric's knapsack— _damn it._ Now Eric was hungry, even with the pungent aroma of the soup's other ingredients.

A few candles were lit by the fireplace on a small table. The Troll didn't seem to notice that Eric was awake, and Eric listened carefully to the lyrics the Troll sang. From what he'd gathered in his prior experiences, Trolls weren't a smart bunch. They could be deterred from human-hurting if given the right motivation.

He picked his moment, inhaled deeply, and sang, " _We are the Troll Nation, Troll Nation. We know how to do it. Ever strong Troll Nation, Troll Nation. We know how to show it._ "

The Troll peered up. "You know the Troll Nation anthem?" He smiled with a mouth of sharp teeth. His large nose wrinkled into his heavy brow, and his brown hair fell onto shoulders covered in spiked leather.

Eric swallowed. "Some of it."

"Sing more."

"Um..." He cleared his throat. " _Here I am cutting the shoes for King Burly, shaping the shoes for King_ _Bluebell. Stitch the shoes for Queen Blabberwort!_ "

The Troll's smile deepened, "Wow, a puny human knows the Troll anthem," and he bowed his head. "You honor me with your terrible singing. I am Snowdrop, escapee of Snow White Memorial Prison."

"Eric Forman, also an escapee of Snow White Memorial Prison."

Snowdrop laughed, and the walls vibrated at the volume. "You're that human who fled with Acorn the Dwarf and Clayface the Goblin!"

"That's right." Eric relaxed but only a little. He was probably still doomed to die in this cottage, but maybe he could delay his death a few minutes.

Snowdrop turned back to his stew and dropped another sausage into it. Some of the liquid splashed up and landed on his giant, muscular arm. "Stab a Kelso!" he shouted, and Eric swallowed again. Kelso's defeat of the Troll King's children—currently the Troll Kingdom's sovereigns—had apparently made him notorious.

The cottage door stood many feet from the mattresses, and it banged open. Another Troll entered—a female. Her huge breasts were clad in a leather bustier, and her bright yellow hair was braided at odd angles.

"Suck an Elf, that forest is a tricky place!" she roared and lumbered toward Eric. "I got lost three times!" She reached up and grabbed his leg. "Is this what's for dinner? It has no meat!"

"Hey, there's muscle there!" Eric said then clamped his mouth shut. That was a smooth move, encouraging the Trolls to eat him.

"We're not Ogres, woman!" Snowdrop said. "We don't eat man-flesh!"

The female Troll let go of Eric's leg then slapped it, causing him to fall onto his side. "I am only joking, husband."

"Oh." Snowdrop nodded. "Nicey-nice!" He laughed again, and metal piercings in his thick bottom lip gleamed in the candlelight, as did the axe slung in his belt loop. "Daisy, I'm glad you did not get lost a fourth time."

Daisy brought her bulbous nose close to Snowdrop's. She nuzzled it before sitting at the table, and Eric marveled at what he was witnessing: a scene of Troll domesticity. These two seemed to be in love.

"Whatever you _are_ making for dinner better be good," she said. "My brother will be angry when he gets back. He _did_ get lost four times. Stupid, tricky tiny lights. I tried to cut them with my axe, but they were too fast."

Snowdrop held up an andouille sausage. "Pig wrapped in pig intestines."

"Nicey-nice!"

The sausage splashed into the stew, and Snowdrop continued to stir. "Figblossom will be grumpy until tomorrow when we go back to the Troll Kingdom. But the Royal Majesties will be happy with our captures. We are sure to rise in the ranks!"

"You will have to start wearing shoes for that," Daisy said and gestured to Snowdrop's bare feet.

He waved a dismissive hand at her. "Yeah, yeah."

Eric grew curious as the Trolls continued to talk. Snowdrop had said "captures," not capture. Was Donna here? _Oh, God,_ had Snowdrop stuffed her beneath the mattresses? Was her body the thing jabbing him? His heart, which had remained relatively calm so far, began to pound. For Snowdrop to kill Donna and leave him alive made no sense, but since when were Trolls logical?

"If our Royal Majesties gain leverage against the other kingdoms," Daisy said, "and if _we_ were the ones to provide that leverage, our statues would join the Army of Heroes!"

"Yes," Snowdrop said, "and the Troll Nation would be included in inter-kingdom events, like the Candy and Pie Expo. My ma makes the best boar's-head pie."

Daisy slammed the table, and the candles flickered. "If we won, we could get magical candy to plant in our kingdom, to replace those wretched beanstalks!"

She and Snowdrop lowered their voices and began to speak in hushed tones. Eric could still hear their conversation, but his attention lay elsewhere. He leaned over the mattresses, and the jabby thing stuck into his stomach. He tried not to think it was Donna's elbow, but he whispered, "Donna? Donna?"

"Eric Forman!" Snowdrop shouted, and Eric shot back up to a seated position. "You are a good friend to King Fez, correct?"

"Yes," Eric said automatically. Another smooth move. _Knowledge was power, dumbass._ Hadn't his father drilled that into his head a thousand times?

Daisy's beady black eyes lit up. "You are sure to fetch a mighty ransom from the Fourth Kingdom and give us leverage."

"He's good for a puny man." Snowdrop quit stirring the stew. He placed a lid on top of the pot—and Eric's adrenaline must have been pumping because his eyesight was as sharp as ever. Even from his vantage point on the mattresses, he saw in detail what Snowdrop pulled from his leather jacket: a thick, rolled-up leaf. It was six inches long and filled with some kind of brown, woody material. "Sing the Troll Nation anthem, Eric Forman."

Eric sang as much as he could recall, and Daisy clapped. "When we get to the Troll Kingdom," she said, "we will make sure you aren't tortured too much. Only about..."

She looked at Snowdrop, and he supplied the answer: "Four-to-six hours a day."

"Four-to-six hours a day," she repeated, "at most."

Snowdrop lit the rolled-up leaf with one of the candles. He took a long drag afterward and passed it to Daisy. "Dwarf moss," he said.

White smoke spilled from Daisy's mouth as she spoke. "We are excellent giant-rollers." Then she offered the giant to Eric.

"No, thanks," Eric said, remembering Hyde's experience with the stuff. A Dwarf-moss circle with Leo had made Hyde lose it. He vandalized a chicken coup and chased chickens out of a farm. Next morning, he woke up with a horse licking his neck, and the village accused him of murdering a shepherdess.

Daisy shrugged and passed the giant to Snowdrop. Eric backed up on the mattresses, hoping like hell Dwarf moss had a mellowing effect on Trolls. If not, he'd probably be joining the sausages in their slow-simmering stew.

* * *

Benedick laced his fingers together, having just rejected all possible replacements for the Princess Pea. Fez was grumbling beside him at the desk. He'd scooped the useless peas back into the burlap sacks, but Jackie was on her feet and shouting, "You just spent the last five hours on over a thousand peas. Just pick one and give it to the stupid Emperor!"

"Whatever you're saying, young lady," Benedick said, "I'm sure it's quite impossible for me to do."

She growled, though no one else could hear it. Her fingers itched to yank out Benedick's thick chest hair strand-by-strand. What she needed was some hot wax. Maybe she could use the candles he'd lit around the cabin.

Fez snatched a pea from the sack. "What about this one?"

"No," Benedick said, "that has a minor defect in its symmetry, see?" and Fez showed him another one. "Not speckled enough." Fez showed him a third. "Too speckled."

Fez stood from his chair. "I think _you_ are too speckled!"

Benedick rose to meet him, and Jackie turned away. Too many exposed ding-dongs, as Steven often called them. The only one she ever wanted to see again was his.

"I'll have you know that the ladies prefer a gentleman with a little color," Benedick said.

"No, the ladies like a man with _a lot_ of color," Fez said. "I have so much color it's pouring out of my ass! Right, Jackie?"

She didn't answer, but the pleased, "Ooh!" Fez and Benedick let out prompted her to turn back around. She'd unintentionally flashed her butt at them.

"Fez," she said and moved in close so he could see her mouth, "we have to get to the Ninth Kingdom. What are we supposed to do?"

Fez nodded as if he understood. "What now?" he said to Benedick.

"Simple, gather more peas. It's getting dark outside, but you can't wait until morning. I must bring my yacht back before it's discovered missing."

"Our friends aren't back yet." Fez crossed his arms. "We are not leaving without them."

"As you wish," Benedick crossed his arms, too, "but this yacht _will_ leave if they do not return in time. So gather more peas... unless you _don't_ want the Emperor to let you out of the Fifth Kingdom."

"Fine, you sonuva—" Fez yanked a lantern off the wall, " _noble._ " He opened a desk drawer—to Benedick's gasped objection—and found matches. These were larger and seemed cruder than those from home, but Jackie didn't care as long as they worked. Fez put both the lantern and the matches into his knapsack. "Bad day, Benedick," he said and hefted up the sacks full of rejected peas.

Jackie followed him up the cabin stairs and past Benedick's men, who were still guarding the yacht. She wasn't staying behind with that creepy Benedick, especially not when he could leave the island with her. The sun had dipped below the horizon, and the sky was a mix of deep blue and purple. So much time had passed since Steven, Donna, and Michael went searching for Eric. Jackie's chest felt tight, but Steven's presence was still with her. He had to be okay—though for how much longer?

Soon, when she and Fez were a safe distance from the dock, she put her clothes back on. Fez, though, remained nude—except for his underwear. She'd "insisted" he cover his privates by threatening a hard kick to the 'nads.

He dumped the rejected peas from the sacks. He set the lit lantern on the ground, and she frantically helped him collect peas. Her nails dug into the pods, ripped them open. They couldn't waste any more time.

"I am sorry, Jackie," Fez said a few minutes into gathering. "I miss your glorious yelling voice."

"Oh, don't worry," she said and tore two pods off a plant. "I'll more than make up for it once this curse is broken."

"If you are concerned for Hyde's safety, I can assure you that Kelso is a great swordsman. I do not think there are more than two or three Trolls out there, and he—"

She burst into laughter. Michael could barely use a butter knife without cutting himself. Yeah, he'd gotten lucky with the Troll King's idiot children, but with Trolls that actually knew what they were doing?

"Kelso is not exactly who you remember him to be," Fez said. "People change, especially when separated from what they are used to."

"Not Michael," Jackie said. "He will _always_ be Michael. Cheating, superficial, self-involved Michael. I love him, but there are certain things he will never understand."

Her own words made her proud, but Fez hadn't heard them or watched her lips. He filled the silence with silly, angry songs about Benedick, and as their sacks grew full with peas, she wished she could join him.

* * *

They'd been wandering the forest for what felt like hours, but Donna didn't know the actual amount of time. Hyde's watch had stopped soon after they'd entered the woods, frozen on fifty-seven minutes past noon. The blackness surrounding them no longer glowed. The trees were barely visible, and Fez's candle was no help. The flame might've been eternal, but it had also dimmed to the point of being useless. The judge of the Jack-Be-Nimble contest must have been scammed

"Who knew such a small island would have such a big forest?" Kelso said ahead of her. He'd been leading them the whole time, supposedly following the Troll footprints.

"I don't think it's that big," Donna said. She remembered passing the same, twisty tree a few times before that strange, black light faded away.

"Yeah, me neither," Hyde said. He'd been walking beside her most of the time, occasionally taking her hand or giving her shoulder a comforting pat. But he left her to grab Kelso by the jacket. "We've been goin' in circles, man." The whites of Kelso's eyes lit up in the lantern's dim glow. Hyde had turned him around.

"Wha—well, don't blame me! I've been following that twinkling light!"

A tiny spark was floating behind Kelso's head, and Donna groaned. She hadn't spotted it before. His big head must've blocked it while it led him in circles. "Kelso," she said, "you've been here for almost a year—"

"N'uh-uh! Only for a few hours."

"No, you jackass, in the Nine Kingdoms! Even _I_ know never to trust a twinkling light in the forest. We've been Pixie-led!" Donna's fists shook, and the Pixie zipped in front of her face. She swatted at it. "Get out of here!"

" _Flee, Pixie, flee,_ " her engagement ring sang. " _Don't you ever bother me!_ "

The Pixie flew into Hyde's eye-line next, but he grabbed his sunglasses from his shirt collar and slid them on. The Pixie whistled a _harrumph!_ then shot into the trees.

"I think it was pouting," Hyde said.

"Whatever." Donna grasped Kelso's ears, and his knees buckled. "It's a wonder Fez hasn't demoted you to court jester—or that his kingdom hasn't been conquered by Trolls!"

"There are a lot of forests in the Nine Kingdoms, _Donna!_ " Kelso attempted to pry her fingers off him, but her anger gave the strength to hold on. "I—I haven't been in all of them. _God._ "

Hyde touched Donna's arm gently. "I know you're worried about Forman, but give the moron a break."

He was right. She was ridiculously worried about Eric. She released Kelso's ears and snatched the useless lantern from him. It didn't offer much light, but it could serve as a weapon.

"Thank you, Hyde," Kelso said.

"Don't mention it."

"All right," Donna said and marched ahead, "from now on, _I'm_ the leader. Be on the lookout for anything that looks like a shelter or sounds like Troll voices or—"

"Eric screaming?" Kelso said, followed by a yelp. "Hyde, I was only jo—OW! Stop hitting!"

"Stop being a moron, and I'll stop hitting."

Donna's grip tightened on the lantern. Hyde cared about Eric as much as she did, and Kelso had probably grown accustomed to being in danger. But unlike her, they wouldn't search for him forever. They'd eventually give up. "Both of you shut it," she ordered, "or I'll tell Benedick you like it rough."

"Yeah, okay," Hyde said.

"Yes, ma'am," Kelso said.

That was more like it.

* * *

The Trolls' cottage was filled with Dwarf moss smoke, and Eric kept his nose buried in his dress shirt, hoping the cottage would air out before he suffocated or became deranged. Snowdrop and Daisy were sitting against the wall beside the fireplace. Randomly, one of them would say "Nicey-nice" or bat at something invisible. Other than that, though, they seemed out for the count.

That was good because Eric couldn't lounge on the pile of mattresses anymore. The jabby thing had become intolerable to sit on, and he had a hunch. He peeked his nose from his shirt once the cottage grew less hazy. The air smelled relatively safe. He'd have to risk breathing.

The knot tying his hands couldn't be undone with his teeth, and his teeth couldn't bite through the ropes. Climbing down the mattresses wouldn't be easy with joined wrists, but it could be done. He lay on his stomach, and the jabby thing pressed into his ribs. He sucked in a breath at the pain, but if his hunch was right, it would really pay off.

His legs swung over the edge of the mattresses. His feet found purchase, and his tied-up hands grabbed as much mattress as they could. He began a slow and careful climb down the pile—and slipped once he was halfway to the floor. He fell six feet and landed with a _thump!_ and the Trolls laughed at what must have been a funny sight. The puny, tied-up human dropping on his dumb ass. But they didn't move to stop him. They were completely baked, which made Eric feel even bolder.

He got to his feet and turned to the Trolls. "Snowdrop, may I borrow your axe?"

The Troll opened his mouth, and a garbled sound came out.

"I'll take that as a yes.".

Eric pulled the axe from Snowdrop's belt loop and backed away toward the mattresses. The axe was heavy, but he managed to hold handle between his knees. He brought his wrists to the blade and sliced the ropes off them. His hands broke apart, finally free from bondage. He wiggled his fingers. Man, that felt good—almost as good as it did to touch Donna.

It was time for part two of his plan. He placed the axe on the floor and peered up at the mattresses. Climbing them again to check underneath each one wasn't going to happen. He'd have to topple them.

He moved to the other side of the mattresses and squeezed between them and the cottage wall. He leaned his entire upper body into the pile. Mattresses rained onto the floor, and the Trolls didn't stir at the impact— _good._

Four mattresses remained. He shoved another off the pile, and Daisy shouted, "No, I don't want any clouds. Suck an Elf—I said no clouds!" She pulled out her axe and hacked into the air.

Eric shrank back. The axe he'd "borrowed" from Snowdrop was buried under a mound of heavy, toppled-over mattresses. His third smooth move, and Red's voice rang inside his mind, " _That's thinking ahead, dumbass,_ _removing access to your only weapon!_ " He never should've put the axe down.

At least Daisy appeared to have calm down. Her axe lay on her lap, and she was humming the Troll Nation anthem to herself. Still, Eric wouldn't risk rousing her again by shoving more mattresses to the floor.

It was time for part three of his plan. He knelt to the floor and stuck his arm beneath the bottom-most mattress. The jabby thing poked at him from above, so he pulled out his arm. Then his hand squeezed between the bottom-most mattress and the one on top of it.

"Donna, this better not be you..." His fingertips grazed something smooth and round. He grabbed it, and a sharp pain bit into his pinky.

He whipped his hand out and opened his fist. A perfectly round pea sat at the center of his palm. Snowdrop had spoken of two captures. One was Eric himself, and the other had to be the Princess Pea, the very thing he'd just found. But he gave himself no time for congratulations.

His pinky was stinging and throbbing. A glowing bite mark shone from the tip. He'd have to worry about it later, though. He pulled out the pouch of seeds Laurie had given him and dropped the pea into it. Then he replaced the pouch into his pants pocket.

It was time for part four of his plan: getting the hell out of here. The cottage had blackened windows. Either that, or it was the dead of night. Whatever the reason, he didn't care as long as he could kick the windows out. For all he knew, the door to this place had a tricky lock. It was always good to have more than one escape route. Red had taught him that.

He picked his way through the fallen mattresses and spared a rueful glance to where Snowdrop's axe was buried. Knowing Donna, she was out in the forest looking for him. One of the Trolls hadn't come back yet— _shit._ Figblossom was still out there.

Eric shoved mattresses aside and dashed toward the door, but the stinging in his pinky traveled up his finger. He raised his pinky to look at it, and a bright light blinded him. Stars flashed in front of his eyes, but when his vision cleared, he looked _above_ his pinky. A thin beam of light was emanating from it like a mini-flashlight.

_Damn,_ that couldn't be good. He curled his fingers into a fist, and a heavy weight fell onto his shoulders. It gave him an instant headache. Snowdrop's huge hands were holding onto him.

"Sing the Troll Nation anthem to the Fairies," Snowdrop said.

"But, um... there are no Fairies here."

"SING!" Snowdrop shoved Eric to the floor. "They must respect the Troll Nation! Sucking Elf-ing Fairies."

He sat beside Eric and trapped him beneath a large, muscular arm. The overwhelming smell of Troll-armpit made Eric gag, but he recovered quickly enough to sing before Snowdrop crushed him.

" _Listen to the ground,_ " Eric sang and gazed longingly at the door. " _There is movement all around._ " Maybe he could use Laurie's seeds to escape. " _There is something goin' down, and I can feel it._ " But what good would seeds do? If he tossed them onto the cottage floor, they'd probably do nothing, and Laurie would laugh at him from wherever Fairy Godsisters hung out.

"I like you," Snowdrop said after Eric's first round through the anthem.

"Thank you."

"Figblossom won't like you."

Eric's voice cracked. "Why not?"

"You sing the anthem better than he does."

_Terrific._ Eric leaned his head back against the wall. Figblossom would return eventually, and he wasn't high on Dwarf moss.

"Sing!" Snowdrop slapped Eric's thigh.

"Ouch! Okay!." Eric said. He rubbed his aching leg, and stars dazzled his eyes again. The base of his ring finger was emitting light like his pinky.

Snowdrop swatted at the light beam. "Go back to the Fairying Forest, you Fairy! Eric Forman—"

Eric sang again and curled his fingers. His pinky bone was visible beneath his lit-up skin, but his strange wound was the least of his worries. His head pounded with the Troll's heavy arm on him. He could barely move. Worse, his heart pounded with the fear Donna had already met Figblossom in the forest.


	22. The Rejects

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 22  
 **THE REJECTS**  


They'd been wandering in the damn forest for at least another hour. The darkness inside was pervasive, and Hyde hated being effectively blind. He'd tried to strengthen the flame of Fez's candle with his lighter, but it did shit. He wanted to toss the lantern with the candle inside it, just to vent some frustration, but Kelso wouldn't let him. So his next choice was stopping for a few minutes and trying to make a torch, but he knew crap about collecting resin from plants. Forman was the Boy Scout, not him.

Hyde occasionally flicked on his lighter, but the forest was too expansive, and the flame gave off too little light to be useful. The futility of their search struck him hotly—too many ways to be helpless where magic, not logic, ruled things—but he wouldn't leave without utilizing every idea he had.

"Where the hell did that Troll take Eric?" Donna shouted. The tears she'd shed were evident in her voice. " _Why_ did it take him?"

"You were right to look out for shelter," Kelso said. "If Trolls can find one, they will. The uggo probably took Eric to an abandoned shack or something."

Donna and Kelso moved ahead. The crunch of their footsteps revealed that much, but Hyde reached out and grasped their shoulders.

"Hyde?" Donna said.

"Finding your way in a pitch-black forest is like enjoying a Clapton solo with ABBA, the Bee Gees, and the Little River Band all playing at once. You two stay freakin' put a second." Hyde let go of their shoulders. "If I call out, yell back."

He groped blindly to a tree and shinnied up its trunk. He climbed as high as he could manage, to a thick branch, and gazed into the darkness.

"Hyde, this is no time to have a circle!" Donna shouted from below.

"Yeah," Kelso added, "not without us!"

"Pipe down! I think I see something." A narrow ray of light beamed in and out of Hyde's eyes. It wasn't one of those Pixies. This light winked in a very specific pattern. _Short, short, short. Long, long, long. Short, short, short._ "Shit," he said and slid down the tree trunk, "I think I found him!"

He landed hard on the ground, and Donna said, "What? How?"

"Morse code, man. Saw a light flashing." Hyde found her arm, and she took his hand.

"Three shorts, three longs, and three shorts?" Kelso said, and Hyde confirmed it. "That's an S.O.S."

Donna squeezed Hyde's hand. "But why can't we see it from here?"

"Think we've been circling a hill." Hyde grabbed onto Kelso's jacket with his free hand and pulled him forward. "It could be steep. When we hit what feels like a wall, we gotta try to climb."

* * *

Jackie was exhausted and growing suspicious. She and Fez had brought two full sacks of peas back to Benedick's yacht, but Benedick gave each pea only a cursory glance before tossing it into the large reject bowl. Was he even trying to find a Princess Pea doppelganger?

She'd been sitting quietly on the bench inside his office, but now she stomped her bare feet on the wooden floor. Both Benedick and Fez peered at her from the desk, and she rose up without the fern fronds to cover her. She marched to the desk, snatched a pea from one of the sacks, and mashed it into Benedick's eye.

"Inspect these carefully, you dipshit," she said. Benedick couldn't hear her, but she pressed the pea harder into his eye with each word. "Care-full-y!" Then she tossed the mushed pea onto the floor and stomped on it, too.

"Dreadfully sorry, yes," Benedick said, and from then on in, he paid more attention to the peas he sorted.

* * *

The Trolls had fallen dead asleep. Their snores rocked the cottage walls, and though Eric was still trapped beneath Snowdrop's leaden arm, he managed to flash a repeated S.O.S. with his light-emitting fingers. If Donna were out there, he hoped she caught his signal. Whatever bit his hand beneath those mattresses had done him a favor, providing him with a means to communicate.

By now, the light had spread to all the fingers on his right hand except his thumb, but it couldn't be far behind. His fingers felt strange, too, as if they were floating underwater.

A loud snore ripped out of Snowdrop, and Eric made a decision: It was time to move. He slipped the Troll's arm off his shoulders, and having that pressure removed made thinking easier. A few mattresses lay between him and the door. He could lift Daisy's axe from her belt, but the risk wasn't worth it, so he darted over the mattresses weaponless. His unlit hand reached for the doorknob, but the doorknob began to turn on its own.

"Oh, no," he whispered. Looked like Figblossom had found his way back to the cottage after all.

Eric sprinted back over the toppled mattresses and dove over what remained of the mattress pile, now a mound of three. He cowered behind them. Figblossom wouldn't be happy seeing the mess inside the cottage. He'd probably guess Eric had stolen the Princess Pea, and Eric could kiss his head goodbye.

Footsteps tapped on the wooden floor, as if whoever had entered the cottage didn't want to wake up the Trolls. Eric inhaled deeply, but all he got was a pungent whiff of the stew simmering over the fireplace. The top mattress of his mound disappeared, and Eric shut his eyes. He also sang the Troll Nation anthem, loudly and desperately. Maybe it would endear Figblossom to him as it had the other two.

"Eric!"

Eric peeked over the mattresses. "Donna?" Her blue eyes glittered in fireplace light, and Hyde and Kelso were right behind her. "Holy shit—" Eric jumped to his feet and over the mattresses. He practically tackled her and wrapped his arms tightly around her back. "You found me. You—all of you went looking for me?"

"Of course we did," Donna whispered. "Eric," she clutched the back of his head, and her fingertips raked through his hair, "you would've done the same for any of us."

She kissed him softly, but someone grasped his right wrist, and he pulled away from her lips.

"So this is how ya did it," Hyde said and waved Eric's glowing hand around. The light was edging its way down his palm.

"Burn!" Kelso said. "Eric, you got bitten by a flare bug."

Eric nodded thoughtfully. "So that's what that was.

Kelso surveyed the cottage floor. "Damn, there are infested mattresses everywhere!." He kicked the closest mattress to him, and tiny, faint lights winked in and out. "Guys, we should get out of here. This place is crawling with flare bugs."

The four of them headed toward the door, and Hyde jerked his thumb toward the baked, sleeping Trolls. "What's with them? You use Troll dust on them or something?"

"No, they had a circle," Eric said. "Dwarf moss."

Hyde chuckled. "Nice."

Eric could only agree. "No wonder you were half out of your mind when you—"

The front door burst open and slammed against the cottage wall. A huge Troll, taller than even Snowdrop, stared inside. It had to be Figblossom, and by the scowl on his ugly face, he wasn't pleased at all by what he saw.

"SUCK AN ELF!" Figblossom bellowed. He pulled a huge axe from a sheathe at his back, but Eric beamed the light of his fingers into the Troll's black eyes. "Pixie's tricks!" Figblossom swung his axe blindly, and the blade narrowly missed Hyde, who leapt backward and fell onto a mattress.

Donna ran past Figblossom as he drew his arms back for another swing. She made it outside, and Eric wanted to follow, but Figblossom's lumbering steps forward pushed a fallen mattress into Eric's path. Eric tripped, and he crashed onto the mattress stomach-first—and gave Figblossom the opportunity to bring his axe down.

The blade pushed air across Eric's skull and agitated the hairs of his nape. His body tensed for the death sure to follow, but the blade never touched him. Figblossom was roaring in pain, and Eric looked up as the Troll's head snapped back. The axe dropped from his nubby fingers, and Kelso stepped out from behind him, his rapier partially covered in blood.

Figblossom turned around. A definite sword-hole was visible in his leather jacket. "Stab a Kelso!" he shouted and touched his wound.

Eric tried to push himself off the mattress, but his glowing fingers seemed to have no power, and he fell flat on his face.

A moment later, a pair of hands slipped beneath his arms. "Come on, Forman." Hyde lifted him to his feet and yanked him past Figblossom, who was heavily engaged in fighting Kelso.

Kelso parried a stab from the Troll's short sword as Eric and Hyde joined Donna outside the cottage.

"They will write an anthem about _me_ when I defeat you, dogmeat!" Figblossom said. He slashed wildly at Kelso's face, but Kelso ducked beneath his arm and charged deeper inside the cottage. Eric, Hyde, and Donna all yelled for Kelso to get out of there. Hyde even made a move to run back inside, but Donna and Eric grabbed onto him.

"I can get the Troll's axe, man—" Hyde said.

"Trust Kelso!" Donna said, and Hyde fought harder to free himself.

Eric tightened his grip around Hyde's arm. "Kelso's trained! Let him handle it."

But Kelso was standing by the fireplace, seemingly in wait for Figblossom to kill him. Snowdrop's stew bubbled in the cast iron pot and rattled the lid Maybe Eric should have let Hyde go, but as Figblossom approached, Kelso grabbed the lid and flung it at the Troll's neck. Figblossom coughed and stumbled backward, allowing Kelso to take the pot itself and whip the hot stew at the Troll's face.

Figblossom wiped frantically at his eyes, and finally Kelso dashed out of the cottage. "Hey, guys, I'm famous!"

"Great. Shut up and run," Hyde said and hit Eric's right arm. "Lead the way outta here!"

Half of Eric's palm was lit now, and he used his hand as a flashlight. It did well in the darkness, illuminating their way through the trees and down a steep hill. But before they made too much progress, a cloud of too-sweet odor shot over their heads and exploded pink against the trees.

"Troll dust!" he said. Figblossom was after them and hurling the stuff. Eric reached for Donna's arm, but she collapsed to the ground. Pink dust covered the back of her hair. She'd been hit.

Eric spun around and shone his hand into Figblossom's face. "My Sucking Elf-ing eyes!" Figblossom shouted and dropped his slingshot. "First porcine stew; now this!"

"Forman, I got her!" Hyde said. Donna's unconscious body lay in his arms. Eric should've been the one carrying her, but they'd cover more ground this way.

They descended the hill swiftly, but the forest surrounded them like a blindfold. "How are we gonna find our way out?" Kelso said. "Fez's candle is super-lame, and it's so dark in here it's like my eyes are closed. Wait, are my eyes closed?"

"No." Eric pointed his lit hand at the trees, but the Trolls had complained about becoming lost in these woods. Maybe the trees were the wrong place to look. He moved his lit hand toward the ground. No grass or scrub covered the forest floor, just dirt... and different colored dirt? "What do you make of that?" he said to Hyde and Kelso. The different colored dirt wended between the trees.

"I'd say you just found us a path," Hyde said. "Your new hand's comin' in handy."

"Yeah, it's like a lightsaber—only it doesn't saber." Eric swept his non-lit fingers across Donna's cheek. She was only asleep, but he didn't like that she couldn't defend herself if necessary. "Keep on carrying her, Hyde."

"You got it."

They followed the path, and the blackness overhead eventually became lit with stars and the glorious, waning gibbous moon. A cool breeze hit them from the lake beyond the island's shore. They'd survived the forest, and Eric inhaled the open air deeply, relieved for the second time that his honeymoon hadn't killed him.

* * *

"I'm sorry, but none of these peas will do," Benedick said, and Jackie leapt from the bench, ready to strangle him with a burlap sack. Fez gripped the hilt of his rapier, but Benedick yawned, seemingly unaware of the threats approaching him. "You have a few hours before dawn. Fill the sacks again—"

"Oh, I will fill your sack," Fez said, "with the blade of my—"

"Victory for the Kelso Nation!" Michael's voice rang out. He was standing at the top of the cabin stairs, but Eric came down first, wearing his dress shirt and brown slacks. A clothed Donna was in his arms, and he lay her down on the bench. She didn't seem conscious.

Steven quickly followed, also dressed in his jeans and black Zeppelin shirt. "Steven!" Jackie shouted and released the fern leaves. She thrust herself into his arms and dropped kisses all over his face and neck. "I knew you were all right. I knew it!"

"I missed you, too," he whispered. He hadn't heard her, of course, but his response was good enough. "You okay?"

She nodded then pointed to Donna. Eric had knelt down beside her and was caressing her forehead.

"She's fine," Steven said. "Just got hit with Troll dust."

"Yeah, and the Troll got hit by me," Michael said. He was by the foot of the stairs, dressed in his white military-style uniform. The lantern with Fez's candle dangled from his finger.

"You're all are wearing clothing?" Benedick rushed out from his desk. "How did you get past my men? Cerimon? Thaliart? Artesius!" he called up the stairs, but his men didn't answer. "How dare you—"

Eric left Donna's side and stepped in front of him. "Shove it—or I'll shove my foot so far up your ass you'll see my toes!" He sounded like Red, and Jackie's fist curled tightly around Steven's shirt. The power in Eric's voice had startled her.

Benedick, though, didn't frown. In fact, he appeared turned on by the prospect—or challenged by it. "Yes, well, when we return to the Emperor, we'll see who shoves what where."

"Whatever," Steven said, and he walked Jackie over to her knapsack. "Get dressed."

She did while he blocked her from view. He held his corduroy jacket in front of her and pushed Kelso away—twice. Michael had wanted to see her "bigger rack," but once she was in Snow White's burgundy dress again, he lost interest.

Steven kissed her temple, "Gimme a second," and covered her shoulders with his jacket. Then he approached Benedick, who'd retreated behind his desk. "So, did ya find a pea?" Steven leaned forward with his hands gripping the edge of the desk, and his aloof tone carried a threat.

Benedick, however, turned to Fez. "They're your friends, Highness. You should have the honor of telling them."

"You are the one who made us go out for the damn peas," Fez countered. "You tell them."

"I insist."

Fez put his hands on his hips and puffed out his chest. "Well, I insist more!"

Benedick copied Fez's body language, and his rug of chest hair scraped up against Fez's bare pecks. "You couldn't insist more if a horse was under your buttocks, and it galloped you into my stable!"

"That only happened once!"

Steven slammed the desk with his hand, and the eyeball ring on his pinky clinked against the wood. "One of you tell me you found a freakin' pea, or buttocks are gonna start getting kicked."

Benedick relaxed first. His chest sank away from Fez's, and he sat down. "I'm afraid they're all duds. Not a looker in the bunch."

"Yes," Fez grabbed handful of peas from the reject bowl, "and Jackie and I had to go out again to gather more."

The peas slipped through his fingers and back into the bowl, _ratta-tatta-tatta._ The dry, mocking sound spurred Jackie into action. She charged the desk, took two fistful of peas, and squeezed them until green oozed between her fingers. "You're telling me you didn't find one pea that looks like the Princess Pea?" She shook her green-dripping fists in Benedick's smarmy face, but he didn't seem fazed.

"I'm afraid not," he said. He must have read her lips.

Steven glowered. "You did this just to fuck with us, didn't you?"

"No." Benedick's mouth broke into a simpering smile. "You were just a bonus." He trained his smile on Fez. "Next time, watch where you put your twig and marshmallows."

"You sonuvabitch!" Fez lunged at him, and they hit the floor. Fez's fingers yanked on Benedick's thick chest hair, and Benedick's bare feet kicked at Fez's butt. Their swords scraped against the floor's wooden boards and edged too close their delicate parts.

Steven hesitated in breaking them up, as if he didn't want to touch either of them. Jackie couldn't blame him—they were both naked—but Michael rushed behind the desk and pulled Fez free from Benedick's grasp.

"Come on... come on!" Michael said as Fez reached for Benedick.

Benedick stood again once Fez regained his composure. Michael kept himself between them, and Fez plunged his hand into the bowl of rejected peas. He pulled out a pea and and passed it to Michael, who passed it on to Benedick.

"You will take us to see the Emperor," Fez said, "and present this pea to him."

Benedick stared at the shriveled, rumpled pea in his palm. "I'm afraid that's quite imposs—"

"Listen, buddy..." Michael's rapier flashed in the candlelight, and the tip moved to Benedick's chin, "if King Fez wants to see the Emperor, he sees the Emperor." He lowered the sword to Benedick's bellybutton. "And if King Fez wants you to bring that pea to the Emperor, you bring that pea to the Emperor, got it?"

Benedick glanced down and swallowed. "I'll go tell my men to, ah... to start the journey back to the mainland."

"Go with him," Fez said to Michael.

Benedick and Michael left the cabin, and a bright light glinted in Jackie's eye. She looked over at Eric on the bench, where he now sat with a sleeping Donna. One of hands was more than glowing; it was _shining._ She walked over to him and poked his wrist.

"Flare-bug bite," he said. His whole hand seemed filled with light. She couldn't look at it directly. She'd need Steven's sunglasses for that.

"Fez, put some clothes on, man!" Steven shouted. Then he met Jackie at the bench and slid his arm around her non-existent waist.

She brought her ring up to his face and widened her eyes, hoping that would communicate her thoughts: _What are we going to do?_

Thankfully, he got her meaning. "We're going to the Ninth Kingdom, pea or no pea," he said, and as if that was the most hilarious joke Steven had ever told, a creepy grin widened Eric's lips. "Forman, what's up?"

Eric kissed Donna's cheek and stood. His shining hand went into his slacks pocket, fumbled around, and came out empty. "Well, that was useless. Can't hold onto anything." He reached over his stomach with his non-lit hand and pulled out a small pouch. Then he gave it to Hyde to hold. "Let's see..." Eric opened the pouch, dug inside, and plucked out a perfectly round pea.

Jackie gasped and swiped it. The pea was green with some black speckling.

"Forman," Steven said, "is that—?"

A fully-clothed Fez joined them and took the pea from Jackie. He moved Donna's legs aside on the bench and placed the pea beneath the velvet cushion. Then he sat down—and shot off the bench immediately, as if the pea had stuck him like a pin. "This is the Princess Pea," he whispered.

Jackie and Steven embraced each other. She snuggled into his chest, allowing herself a moment to feel safe. He cupped the back of her head, a gesture she loved, but their private celebration was brief. Steven parted from her and clapped Eric's shoulder. "How'd you find it, man?"

Eric told them everything, how the Trolls had hidden the pea beneath a tower of mattresses, that they'd stolen it for political leverage.

"Those Trolls," Fez said, tutting. "Always trying to get things the dirty way. And not the good kind of dirty."

Steven grimaced. "I don't ever wanna see Trolls doing the good kind of dirty."

Jackie could only agree.

"Fez, maybe you should consider letting them into that Candy and Pie Expo," Eric said. "You're in charge of it, right?"

"Yes, but to allow those Trolls to enter..." Fez shook his head and removed the Princess Pea from the bench cushion. "The Troll Kingdom was banned because they have an unfair advantage with their huge teeth and huge stomachs in the eating competitions." He put the pea in the pocket of his white pants. Something else seemed to be in there already, crinkling like a folded-up piece of paper. "They're all so much bigger," he continued, "and no one else in the Kingdoms would enjoy their beanstalk pie."

Eric sat beside Donna again, and his non-lit hand stroked her shoulder. "I don't even think they care about the prestige of winning the competitions. They just want to be counted as equals—and to get some help with their horrible, beanstalk-infested land."

Jackie grunted. She'd considered kissing Eric's cheek for finding the pea, but his Troll-talk made her change her mind.

"So all we gotta do is give the Emperor the pea," Steven said, "and he'll let us leave his kingdom, right?"

"Right," Fez said. "I cannot wait to see the look on Benedick's face when I present our prize to the Emperor. I will pull it out and say, 'A-burn!' Just like when I pulled out my twig at the campfire and—"

Jackie squeezed Steven's hand, and he said, "Fez, we got it man... and we got it."


	23. Overindulgence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 23  
 **OVERINDULGENCE**  


Fez had never been to the Naked Emperor's palace, though he'd been given a standing invitation after his coronation as King. The violet flags waving from the turrets were the only fabric he expected to see—and, so far, he was right. The guards who met them at the gates wore no armor, but their halberds looked deterringly sharp.

"See, Donna, I told you," Eric whispered on their way inside the palace. "If you'd been wearing underwear, the guards would've tossed us in the dungeon."

Donna scowled, clearly unhappy with her continuing nudity. On Benedick's yacht—once the Troll dust wore off—she'd voiced her objections. Fez couldn't understand her discomfort with the kingdom's clothing policy. Why would someone so beautiful want to hide herself? Show it off was his philosophy. But her anger had become concern in Benedick's office. Eric's right hand was shining on the bowl of rejected peas.

"A flare-bug bite?" she'd said. "There's a cure for it, right?"

Fez and Kelso had looked at each other, both shrugging.

"There _is_ a cure... right?" Eric repeated. His lit-up fingers moved away from the bowl, and a circle of light shone on the desk's reddish wood.

"Look at the bright side," Kelso said and laughed. "'Bright...' That's funny 'cause your hand's all glow-y—"

"Kelso!" Donna shouted.

Kelso stopped laughing, but his smile remained. "He's got a flashlight that'll never need batteries."

"Yes, and he found the Princess Pea," Fez said, hoping to distract Donna from her question. "We should be able to leave the Fifth Kingdom."

His move had worked. The news shifted Donna's mood from concern to shock and, finally, to pride in her man. She'd kissed Eric in reward, so deeply it gave Fez needs.

Now, though, as the Naked Emperor's giant statue met them inside the palace, Fez's needs had nothing to do with sex. His friends were vulnerable, and not because of their bare flesh. They didn't grow up with magic, didn't know how to avoid its pitfalls. He'd let them down, they who'd risked their lives to save him, and he wouldn't rest until he made things right for them—or died trying.

But their minds were distinctly focused elsewhere at the moment. Donna, Eric, Hyde, and Jackie all stared in awe at the immense statue towering above them. The palace's glass ceiling stretched far into the sky, and the statue cast a dark shadow behind itself, significantly dimming the entry hall.

Benedick, however, was smirking with his men, as if they were in on some kind of joke. "Of course, of course," Benedick said, glancing at the statue, "his is surely bigger than King Fez's."

"N'uh-uh!" Kelso said, but before he could defend Fez further, one of the Naked Emperor's attendants greeted them.

"King Fez! Sir Kelso!" the attendant said, bowing low. "You honor us with your presence, especially in this most difficult time." He straightened up again, and his thick blond hair matched his sunny expression. "The Naked Emperor will be most pleased to see you. I am Camillo, and..." His gaze drifted to Donna, Eric, Jackie, and Hyde. They were covered by fern fronds, and they continued to stare at the statue.

"These are my friends," Fez said and introduced them by name. Then he waved to Benedick and his men. "These are _not_ my friends."

Camillo's face clouded over with recognition. "Benedick."

"Camillo," Benedick said. He slid his palm down his leather baldric, a deliberate gesture of provocation. His fingers passed over the small pouch containing the shriveled pea. They rubbed the string tying it to the baldric. Every movement oozed contempt until, at last, he grabbed the bejeweled hilt of his sword.

A baldric was slung over Camillo's shoulder, too, and a plain-looking sword dangled at his hip. "Your rapier may be well-decorated," Camillo said, "but it could never hope to match mine in balance—or size."

Fez and Kelso both stole a glimpse of Camillo below the navel, and Kelso whispered, "Dude, he's hung like a Giant."

"Yes..." Fez said.

"He should be in porno—"

Fez cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Kelso, what did we speak about?"

"Don't talk about porn or boobs when visiting another ruler's castle."

"Thank you."

"Well, then..." Camillo's sunny expression returned, and his hand rested on Naked Emperor's marble foot, "it's a beautiful statue, isn't it? The detail the sculptor captured—down to the brocade and drapery of the Emperor's finery—is astounding!"

Kelso narrowed his eyes. "But he's naked!"

"Yes," Camillo said, "to those with less discerning eyes. But to those with vision, the clothing His Highness wears is the most spectacular in the Nine Kingdoms."

Kelso looked at Fez incredulously, and Fez sent the same look to Hyde, who shared it with Jackie. Jackie rolled her eyes at Donna, and Donna chuckled at Eric until they all spoke up at the same time:

"Yes, finery's spectacular."

"Far out."

"Amazing."

And one silent, "He should be on the cover of GQ," from Jackie.

"Excuse me for asking, sir," Eric said, stepping forward, "why do they call the Naked Emperor 'naked,' then?" He kept his lit hand behind his back, as he'd been doing since they arrived at the palace. "Shouldn't he be called 'The Most Spectacularly-Clothed' Emperor instead?

"That would be another excellent name," Camillo said, "but 'naked' suits him because what you see is what you get—as with all the Naked Emperors before him."

Eric nodded, "That... makes sense?" and returned to Donna's side, but Hyde whispered something in Jackie's ear. An anti-royalty comment, no doubt.

"We really must see the Emperor right away," Fez said.

Camillo bowed again. "Of course." Then he led everyone past the statue and down the hall. " _Mmm,_ feel that lush carpet between your toes."

"What carpet?" Kelso said. "My feet are freezing!"

The flagstone floor was indeed cold and definitely not blanketed by soft carpet, but Fez didn't want to insult the Emperor through his attendant. "You will have to excuse Sir Kelso," Fez said. "He was dropped on his head as a child. The carpet is fantastic and lovely."

" _Fez,_ " Donna said behind him, in a tone full of questions and judgment he did not need.

Fez put up a dismissive hand. "I said, 'Enjoy the lushness!'"

They traversed the cold flagstone floor until they reached a small antechamber. The whole palace was cold, or maybe it was the simple fact of being naked so long. They all must have been losing body heat. Either way, warm socks were calling to him from his knapsack, but he refused to answer.

"Take a moment, if you would," Camillo said inside the antechamber, "and study the delicate filigree work on the walls. See how intricately those diamonds have been placed? Each jewel is the size of a grain of sand. Incredible."

Fez stared at Kelso, willing him to keep his mouth shut, but the chamber walls were only dull, gray stone. Despite this fact, Fez said, "Yes, it is incredible."

"In the truest sense of the word," Donna said. "In-credible."

Fez sighed. Couldn't Eric control his woman for more than two minutes?

Camillo opened a door, which brought them to the great hall, and the sight before them truly was incredible. Naked sword eaters—both male and female—performed next to naked fire jugglers. They kept a safe distance from the nude musicians, who were playing a jaunty tune with their lute, pipe, and tabor drum.

"As you can see," Camillo said, "things are not as lively around here as usual. The Emperor has been distraught as of late because of the Princess Pea..."

The cinnamon smell of mulled wine drifted in the air, and nude serving women offered goblets to visiting spectators, including Fez and his party.

"Glow-wine, Your Majesty?" one of the women said.

Fez refused politely, so she offered a goblet to Eric. He also refused, saying, "I'm glowing enough on my own, thanks."

"Oh, my God..." Kelso gawked at the divans scattered through the hall. Most of them were occupied by couples having sex in plain view. "Live porno."

Eric's astonishment matched Kelso's, but Donna groaned with disgust, and Jackie hid behind Hyde's bare back. Hyde, though, chuckled. "Man, if this is what it's like when the Emperor is down, it's gotta be something else when he's up."

Finally, after passing between a snake charmer and an acrobatic tumbler, they came to the huge, golden doors leading to the throne room. Six naked guards stood in front of them with their halberds, but they bowed upon seeing Fez.

"Everyone but King Fez and Sir Kelso will have to wait outside," Camillo said.

"Preposterous!" Benedick stepped forward, placing a clenched fist over his heart. "I am the Duke of Knackwürste. I have an urgent matter to discuss with the Emperor."

Camillo clicked his tongue. "I'm afraid that's quite impossible."

"Burn!" Kelso said, and Eric and Hyde laughed.

"I would like Benedick to join me in Kelso's stead," Fez said. He needed Kelso to remain with their vulnerable friends, to keep them safe.

Benedick huffed. "That's very sporting of you, but _you_ would be joining _me._ "

Camillo cast a hesitant glance Fez's way, as if Benedick's self-aggrandizing was too familiar. "Your Majesty?"

"It is a personal request that I'm making, um..."

"Personally," Kelso finished.

"Yes." Fez patted Kelso's shoulder but swore at himself. He should've been able to finish his own sentence, damn it. Being King was still so new to him, the responsibilities so vast. Every word he spoke had a consequence.

Camillo's blond brows knitted together, "Oh, all right," and he gestured to the guards.

The guards pulled open the doors. Camillo dashed inside, his pale skin illuminated by jugglers' fire. Fez and Benedick followed, and the heavy doors closed behind them.

The high-vaulted throne room had no decoration except for a narrow, violet carpet. It ran from the doors to a dais, on top of which was a golden throne. The Naked Emperor slouched there, his body clothed in lavender robes. A jeweled crown clung to his gray head, and his dull eyes observed the entertainment—fire jugglers, naked dancers, and clownish jesters all trying in vain to cheer him up.

"Your Highness," Camillo said and prostrated himself before the throne. Benedick did the same, and Fez bowed. When Camillo stood again, he announced, "King Fez of the Fourth Kingdom has come to visit you! And... Benedick."

"Duke of Knackwürste," Benedick added, clearing his throat.

The Naked Emperor's gaze fell on Fez, ignoring Benedick completely. He stood from the throne, walked down the dais steps, and grasped Fez's extended hand with both of his. "Welcome! Welcome, Your Majesty!" the Emperor said warmly. His eyes had brightened considerably, but his robes were tied closed and revealed nothing. "What brings you to the Fifth Kingdom?"

"Wolves," Fez said.

"Ah, yes. I've been hearing of increased wolf activity throughout the Kingdoms." The Naked Emperor moved in closer and lowered his voice. "The cause is directly related to Gretel the Third's death, and I daresay she was assassinated. Perhaps by the wolves themselves."

"No, not the wolves." Fez took in a sharp breath. Speaking of his old friend's death hurt, but it had to be done. "Gretel always treated them with respect. It is Queen Riding Hood they despise."

"Logical," the Naked Emperor said, and he clapped Fez on the shoulder. "You do your grandmother proud."

"Not yet," Fez said. "My friends and I must be allowed to leave the Fifth Kingdom. We have important duties to attend to—"

The Naked Emperor frowned. "Of course you and your friends may leave. Did someone detain you?"

Fez glared at Benedick, and Benedick coughed before speaking. "After much searching—and personal sacrifice—I have something for you, Your Highness, that may just lift your spirits."

Benedick untied the pouch from his baldric, and beads of sweat formed on his high forehead. Then he poured the shriveled, rumpled pea onto the Naked Emperor's palm.

"Is this a joke?" the Naked Emperor said after a moment. He shook Benedick's hand, crushing the pea between their two palms. "A farce?" His grip on Benedick's hand grew visibly tighter, and Benedick swallowed. "Guards!"

Two nude guards with halberds rushed in from behind the throne.

"Wait!" Fez said as the guards grabbed each of Benedick's arms. "Your Highness, Benedick was only setting you up for the big reveal."

"Yes, yes, exactly," Benedick said.

"Reveal?" The Naked Emperor signaled to the guards, and they released Benedick.

Fez took off his knapsack and rummaged inside it. "Yes, Benedick is adding drama to make up for the fact that he... _accidentally_ kept me and my friends from leaving, the sonuva... There it is!"

He'd found what he was looking for, one of Kelso's leather gloves. His fingers maneuvered inside the leather thumb and snatched what he needed. Then he dropped his knapsack to the floor.

"And _here_ it is." He stretched his closed fist toward the Naked Emperor and opened his fingers. The Princess Pea, perfectly round and slightly speckled, sat in the middle of his palm.

The Naked Emperor gasped. "Could it be?" He took the pea and rolled it gently between his thumb and forefinger.

"That's—that's impossible," Benedick whispered. "No pea is its equal..." Then he clamped his mouth shut and breathed noisily out of his nostrils.

"Yes, I must be sure..." The Naked Emperor ran back up the dais. He placed the pea beneath the throne's thick cushion and sat down.

All background chatter ceased as the Naked Emperor shifted on the throne and untied the belt of his robes. The fire jugglers, nude dancers, and jesters crowded around Fez and Benedick. The guards and Camillo held onto each other, and everyone held their collective breath.

"It _is,_ " the Naked Emperor whispered, and a grin spread across his face. "It is!" He shot to his feet and threw the robes off his naked body. "Huzzah! The Princess Pea has returned!"

"Huzzah! Huzzah!" The throne room erupted in cheers as the Naked Emperor took the pea from beneath the cushions. He leapt onto his throne and held the Princess Pea high for all to see. "Huzzah!" everyone in the chamber repeated. "The Princess Pea has returned!"

The Naked Emperor jumped back down to the dais and rushed to Fez's side. His curly gray chest hair tickled Fez's skin, and Fez laughed before backing up a foot.

"You found it, lad!" the Naked Emperor said. Then he clasped Fez's hand and held it up in victory. "All hail King Fez!"

Everyone but Benedick shouted, "King Fez! King Fez! Happily Ever After! Happily Ever After!"

Fez smirked in Benedick's direction, and Benedick answered with slow, insincere applause. Regardless, Fez had won this round. Benedick knew it, and Fez would shove it in his ugly face forever.

"King Fez," the Naked Emperor said as the cheering died down. "truly, you are Snow White's grandson. Tell me, how did you find it? Who had it?" Fez began to answer, but the Emperor shook his head. "There will be plenty of time for explanations during the feast! Camillo!"

Camillo stood at the Naked Emperor's side immediately. "Yes, Your Most-Esteemed Highness?"

"Set up a banquet," the Naked Emperor said, "the likes of which haven't been seen since the last banquet!"

* * *

The Naked Emperor's banquet hall was stark by any measure. The gray-brick walls had no adornment. Neither did the high glass ceiling that let in early-afternoon light. The dining room in Eric's parents' house, with its white lattice work on the walls, seemed lavish in comparison. Only the hall's long table had anything worth mentioning, like the violet tablecloth and napkins.

But Eric wasn't complaining. He and his friends were wearing their clothes again, thanks to a special dispensation given by the Naked Emperor. Best of all, the table was covered in copious amounts of succulent meat. The platters of suckling pig were especially tempting, and his salivary glands went into overdrive waiting for the Emperor's first bite.

But it didn't seem like Eric would be eating any time soon. The Naked Emperor waxed on about his gratitude to Fez, how the Princess Pea had been safely returned to the Royal Museum, and _blah, blah, blah._ The roast pork wanted to be eaten already, damn it, and Eric needed to be the one eating it.

His right hand was resting on his knee, but the hand felt nothing but a sharp buzzing—as if it had fallen asleep. At least the leather glove Kelso lent him blocked the light. His unlit left hand, meanwhile, tightened around his wine glass, and Donna nudged his shoulder.

"Are you growling?" she whispered.

"It's my stomach," he whispered back, _a lie._ A growl had been rumbling in his throat. Hunger did that to a man. He downed half his drink in one gulp, if only to shut down his anticipating saliva. But the glow-wine was fantastic, and its spicy-sweet taste made him finish off the glass.

He licked his lips and glanced around the banquet hall for a server. He'd need more wine for when he finally got to eat. Two attendants, Camillo and a burly-looking fellow, stood several feet behind the Naked Emperor, but the sound of sloshing liquid drew Eric's attention. He looked down at his glass. Wine had refilled it, _magically._

"Donna, we should've registered for a set of these."

Donna smiled thinly, but Hyde chuckled on Eric's other side. "Forman, that is a _great_ idea," he said. "Your mom could've used 'em when she had her 'lady-parts' problem."

Eric nodded. "That she could have, my friend."

Several minutes later, just as another frustrated growl rolled in Eric's throat, the Naked Emperor clinked a fork on his wine glass. "The Nine Kingdoms," he said, "must continue to work together to maintain Happily Ever After." He raised the glass, and everyone at the table raised their their glasses, too—including Benedick and his naked men. "To Happily Ever After!"

"To Happily Ever After!" the table repeated in unison, except for Jackie who mouthed it.

At last, the suckling pigs were being sliced and diced by attendants. Plates of it, along with servings of grapes and apricots and carrots, were passed down to everyone. Eric asked for a side of veal slathered in a butter-lemon sauce, and Jackie gave him the stink-eye. She also mouthed something to him, but he had no idea what it was.

"'Least the food is real," Hyde muttered. He sliced into his pork, and Eric moved to do the same, but he had a problem. His glowing hand couldn't hold anything, not the silverware—nothing.

"Forgive me, Donna..." he said, "and don't look at me." His left hand grabbed his cut of pork. His teeth ripped into it, and within moments, his face was a mess of pork bits and fruit sauce.

Donna kept her view straight ahead, but she must have seen him in the corner of her eye. Her half-cough, half-laughs indicated as much.

"Just remember," he wiped his mouth with one of the violet napkins, "you vowed to love me through times like these."

"Oh, I remember. And I'll also remember never to take you to any presidential dinners—that is, if I'm ever invited to any. Would you like me to cut up your veal for you, or would you prefer to mash it into your face?"

"Mashing is pretty efficient, but if you want to cut it for me, I won't stop you."

She continued to laugh as she sliced his veal into uniform squares. "No High Society Lunches for you, either. You're lucky the Emperor's attention is all on Fez."

She was right. The Naked Emperor was in deep conversation with their friend. They didn't seem to notice Eric's uncourtly behavior, and Eric ignored them, too, until the Emperor said, "How _did_ you find the Princess Pea?"

Benedick interjected from across the table. "It was a harrowing escapade! A tale worthy of the bards. I risked life and limb to procure the precious Gem of the Kingdom."

"He's lying!" Donna shouted, and her fork clattered onto her plate. " _Eric_ found it."

"King Fez, is this true?" The Naked Emperor said.

"Eric was very heroic," Fez said. "The pea lay beneath a pile of mattresses"

Kelso wiggled his fingers beside Fez. "He totally got bitten by a flare bug to get it. Eric, show him!"

Before Eric had the chance, though, the Naked Emperor held him with a firm gaze. "You're the lad who defeated the Evil Queen. Yes, I remember you now. You received Snow White's rose during King Fez's awards ceremony, a worthy man if there were any. Unsurprising that one with bravery such as yours would find the Princess Pea."

Eric's face grew hot. Praise like that rarely came his way, but he rarely did anything to earn it either.

"King Fez keeps good friends," the Naked Emperor said. "Tell me, my boy, where were you bitten?"

Eric pulled the glove off his right hand. His fingers, palm, and wrist shone with light.

The Naked Emperor shielded his eyes but didn't shy away from the bright beam. "I once saw a man who got bitten on his rod. Quite a spectacle until he died."

"Died?" Eric's glowing hand dropped to his lap, and his stomach felt heavy, as if the meat he'd eaten had turned into boulders.

"Unfortunately, he was unwilling to chop off his appendage before the venom spread. If you wish, I could have the palace doctor amputate your arm, or you could simply drink the antidote—"

Eric rose from the table and banged into it. "The antidote! I'll take the antidote!"

The Naked Emperor gestured behind himself to Camillo, who promptly moved to his side. "Go see Emilia and fetch some flare-bug antidote."

"Hey," Hyde waved in the Naked Emperor's direction, "could I get whatever passes for paper here and something to write with?"

"Certainly," the Naked Emperor said. "Camillo, make a stop at the the scriptorium."

Camillo bowed, and his thick, blond hair fell over his forehead. "Yes, Your Highness."

He hurried from the banquet hall, and Eric sat back down, prompting Donna to hug him sideways. "Thank God," she whispered. "From the way Fez and Kelso acted, I thought there wasn't any cure."

"Where did you find the Princess Pea?" the Naked Emperor said and drank some more wine. "Were the thieves there when you found it?"

"Oh, uh..." Eric put Kelso's glove back on his right hand—slowly. He needed a moment to think, so he deliberately stuck two fingers into one opening. "Give me a second here... I'm bad with gloves."

Trolls had taken the Princess Pea, but Snowdrop and Daisy weren't bad folks—as far as Trolls went. In fact, they'd been decent to him in their Trollish way. But they were desperate and trying to help their people, and kicking a kingdom while it was down didn't seem like the right thing to do.

"Got it!" Eric finally pulled the glove back on properly. "To answer your question, I found the pea in an abandoned cottage on Erbse Island, and—"

Kelso interrupted. "A bunch of uggo Tro—"

"Kelso!" Eric shouted. Kelso looked directly at him, and Eric hurled a piece of veal at his eye _—a perfect shot._ Kelso cried out in pain, and Eric continued, "The thieves had flown the coop."

"I see..." The Naked Emperor rubbed his pointy chin and furrowed his bushy, gray brow. "So it remains a mystery as to whom stole the pea and why."

"No, it doesn't." Kelso's palm was pressed to his eye. "The Tro—"

"Fez," Eric said, "I humbly request you purple-nurple him."

Fez grinned. "Request granted, old chum!" He pinched he material of Kelso's white shirt—right at the nipple—and twisted.

"Ow! Damn, Eric!" Kelso covered his chest protectively.

But Fez's grin faded, and he turned back to the Naked Emperor. "I am sorry, Your Esteemed Greatness. My friends and I have been through many trials lately. We—"

The Naked Emperor laughed heartily. "No need to apologize. No need at all. There is a time for formality and a time for jest, and this is most certainly a time for jest! This is a celebration."

The conversation significantly lightened from there. The Naked Emperor, Fez, and Kelso discussed jovial Nine-Kingdoms events like the Parade of Elves and the Troll Nation wrestling tournaments. Eric had no reference for them, and with the attention off him, he stole another slice of suckling pig but allowed Donna to cut it up for him.

"Why don't you want the Emperor to know about the Trolls?" she whispered. "They took the pea."

"Yeah, because they're being discriminated against."

"With good reason."

"Why? Because they're bigger, uglier, and stronger than everyone else? Believe me, Donna, I know what that's like."

She screwed up her face, as if she had no idea what he was talking about.

"Only I'm smaller and weaker," he said. "Not as weak as I used to be, but... Look, you of all people are always arguing for equality, right? You should get this."

She didn't answer him immediately. Instead, she sipped her wine and sliced into her pork. "I don't think they want equality." She drank some more wine. Then her fingers played with the napkin on her lap. "The Trolls have three separate entrances into their kingdom. I saw them when the Troll King's idiot children kidnapped me and Jackie. There was a gate for Troll citizens, one for foreign citizens, and one for slaves. They have slaves, Eric..."

He sighed. _Man,_ politics were complicated. Once the Troll Kingdom was accepted into broader society, the other kingdoms could pressure it to free its slaves—but the argument was one he didn't bother making. The plates were soon empty of food, and attendants bussed the table. More importantly, Camillo had returned with a stack of paper, a tied bundle of what appeared to be crayons, and a vial.

Hyde took the paper and the crayons, and these he put in front of Jackie. She began to write, but Eric couldn't concentrate on anything but the vial. It seemed to be empty, but as Eric reached for it, Camillo said, "Be careful—don't jostle it too much. Tends to be volatile."

"Um... _what_ tends to be volatile?" Donna said. "There's nothing inside but air."

Camillo scoffed. "To the blind, perhaps."

Eric placed the vial to his lips, but Donna stopped him. "Fez," she said, "is this going to work?"

The Naked Emperor answered instead. "Slowly, but yes."

Eric didn't want to waste anymore time, so he tipped back his head and "drank" the potion. It had no taste or texture. Probably was just air, but maybe a glamor had been put on it—just like the door at his and Donna's honeymoon suite. The buzzing in his right hand did seem to dull into a tingle... though he could've been making it up.

"Thank you," he said to the Naked Emperor, in case the potion actually did heal him.

"Think nothing of it, lad. You've restored joy to me and my kingdom."

"Will there be dessert?" Fez said eagerly. "A celebration is not a celebration without dessert."

"Certianly—but first, some entertainment!"

The Naked Emperor clapped his hands twice, and nude acrobats bounded into the banquet hall with nude musicians. The acrobats leapt onto the table as the musicians started up a raucous tune with their pipes and drums.

Benedick and his men whistled their approval at the athletic feats being performed in front of them. The Naked Emperor, Fez, and Kelso appeared to share their enthusiasm, hooting and hollering. But Hyde and Jackie turned their chairs away from the table, and Donna began to do the same thing.

"I have a feeling this'll get X-rated," she said.

Eric, however, was momentarily fascinated by the over-the-top indulgence of the rich. The Naked Emperor's palace might have been austerely decorated, but the man sure knew how to party.

The muscular male acrobats lifted the women into the air, using only the flat of their hands. Other women tossed each other high toward the ceiling and caught each other easily. And then the men and women maneuvered themselves in decidedly sexual positions—positions Eric and Donna could never hope to achieve.

"Donna, you have to see this," he said without thinking.

"No, it's the _last_ thing I need to see."

_Right._ She'd grown up with Bob and Midge as her parents—sexually experimental, no-sense-of-boundaries Bob and Midge. Donna didn't need to witness the live porno in the banquet hall. What she needed was solidarity from her husband. So, despite his curiosity, Eric turned his chair away from the table, too.

* * *

Kelso never knew people could have sex all twisted around each other's legs or upside-down, but the acrobats in front of him were doing a kickass job of it. Yeah, he'd definitely have to try that someday. Too bad his friends—Fez excluded, of course—didn't get how freakin' cool this show was. They kept their backs to the table, and from what Kelso could see, Jackie was writing novels on her paper, and Hyde gave her one-word replies. But he also brushed her orange hair from her face, and she pressed her cheek into his wrist before kissing it.

_Lame..._ that was what Hyde had become, and Eric and Donna were no better. A dozen new doin'-it positions were being demonstrated right behind them, but they were too busy talking and holding hands.

Fez, at least, watched the sex-acrobatics with as much interest as Kelso—probably more. He'd crossed his legs and covered his lap with a violet napkin, speaking only to answer the Naked Emperor's "My, my!" with his own, "Fur ba jaja."

Kelso peered up at the high glass ceiling and absently drank his wine. The sun shone brightly into the banquet hall, illuminating every moist, hot curve of the acrobats' bodies. Thank God the Nine Kingdoms had no helicopters. Otherwise, Brooke could've flown in and caught him enjoying the entertainment too much.

Of course, he wasn't looking at the entertainment right now, was he? He was staring at the sky, thinking about the mother of his kid. He swallowed more wine, hoping it would clear his head. Instead, butterflies fluttered against the inside of his skull. Not cool...

He tapped Fez on the shoulder and kept his focus on Fez's excited face. The butterflies wouldn't let him turn back toward the show. "Hey, Fez—hey!"

"Yes?" Fez said without looking at him.

"Have you ever been in love?"

"Too many times, my friend. Hershey's Kisses will be the end of me. So will Sugar Daddies, Skittles, Milk Duds, Snickers, Fun Dip... I love candy so much," Fez pointed ahead of him, "and that acrobat's boobs."

"Yeah, I don't think it counts unless it's a _chick_ named 'Candy,'" Kelso said.

"Oh, that would be a dream come true..." Fez turned his head slightly, as if glimpsing Kelso in the corner of his eye. "Of all the women I have been with, I've loved only one—and I never even did it with her."

"That's funny. The only girl I ever loved was the one I did it with the most, and that's Jackie. But I don't know if I was _in_ love with her."

Kelso repeated his last words to himself, laughing quietly. He used to claim he was in love with Jackie, and he'd believed it for a while. But Donna and Eric had never cheated on each other, and Hyde was sticking by Jackie even though she'd been cursed into an uggo.

"I mean, I'd totally nail her again if she was still hot—" Kelso glanced across the table at Jackie's round face, "oh, and not engaged to Hyde. I've been with so many chicks, but the sex is pretty much the same... It was different with her."

"I'm afraid I cannot help you with that," Fez said. "I'm too much like you. My needs have gotten in the way of so much."

Kelso fell silent. He still didn't understand the butterflies clouding his brain. The best live porno ever was happening, and yet he couldn't watch it anymore.

* * *

The "entertainment" seemed interminable, and the grating pipe-and-drum music was no better. Jackie's tolerance of it was growing thin. What amazed her, though, was that Steven hadn't peeked his head around once. His concentration remained on her, despite the naked women having sex behind them. They were all prettier than her at this point, but he seemed more interested in his cloth napkin, folding it into an origami crane.

The stack of paper had remained on her lap along with the bundle of crayons. She'd written a lot already, but now she wrote, "When will this torture be over?" and held the paper up to him.

"Don't know," he said, "but I'm almost done."

He made the last fold and flinched as the cloth wings flapped in his hands. The violet napkin-crane flew into the air, and Jackie gasped silently. The napkins were magic—or maybe it was Steven's origami talent. His ability to make something so beautiful still awed her, but she'd learned of it only a few days ago. Why did he keep these things from her?

"Holy hell—" Steven swiped at the napkin-crane above his head, but she slapped his arm away.

"Leave it alone," she mouthed, and the napkin-crane fluttered in front of her face. Only being covered in jewels could have made it more beautiful.

"You like it?" Steven said, gliding his arm around her shoulders. She nodded and lay her head against the warm curve of his neck.

The napkin-crane danced in the air before them, and the moment reminded her of their first real date. They'd been sitting on the hood of her father's Lincoln, staring out into the woods of Mt. Hump Park. She'd kept silent for an entire half-hour, hoping to show her non-abrasive side, hoping to prove they could be peaceful together. He didn't seem affected by her silence then either way, but now...

On a piece of paper, she wrote a question with a red crayon. She surrounded the question with hearts—a little subliminal influence couldn't hurt—and passed him the paper.

"'Do you miss my voice?'" he read aloud but had no chance to answer.

The banquet hall plunged into darkness, as if the sun's fuse had broken. She'd become essentially blind.  
"Shit." Steven grasped her hand while the Naked Emperor shouted for candles to be lit, but a powerful and cold wind blew inside the hall. It pushed all the paper off her lap and pressed her into Steven's side.

Benedick yelled something, and Fez and Michael yelled something back, but Jackie couldn't make it out over the roar of wind. Wine glasses crashed onto the stone floor. A napkin hit her face—was it the magical origami crane?—and she tore it off as Steven hooked an arm around her stomach.

He pulled her into the wind as if it were nothing. She couldn't see where they were going—or even ask him since she had no voice—but then he shouted her name from far away.

_From far away?_ It wasn't Steven who'd grabbed her. She twisted beneath the arm holding her, but it wasn't easy. The stone-like grip reminded her of the crazy Huntsman, and her heart pounded frantically as she fought for traction. She dug her feet into the floor. Her body slipped from his arm, and she broke free...

But only briefly. Unkind hands grasped her wrists. They yanked her into a solid wall of muscle. Who the hell was this? One of Benedick's men? She reached up in the dark and touched the rough, stubbly cheek of someone she didn't recognize. Despite the darkness, she angled her face toward him, and her breath froze.

Before her, shining in the dark, was a pair of orange eyes.


	24. Torn Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 24  
 **TORN APART**

"Jackie!" Hyde shouted, but it was no use. Someone had ripped her from him in the dark, and she couldn't answer because of the curse. He pushed through the wind blasting into the banquet hall, shielded his nose in order to breathe, but he had no way of knowing where she'd been taken. "Forman, your hand!" he said, and a bright beam of light cut into the dark.

A pair of orange eyes glimmered in Forman's light then disappeared. Two more pairs flashed nearby, and Hyde caught sight of a furry tail before it disappeared, too. _Wolves._ The realization flooded him with adrenaline _._ He tried to spot where the hell they'd bolted with Jackie, but Forman was waving his light around like a maniac. Hyde needed control.

He backed up and grabbed Forman's wrist. "Hey—" Forman said, but Hyde identified himself. "Hyde? What the hell's happening?"

Damned if he knew, but he pointed Forman's hand at every corner of the banquet hall. The light revealed Benedick and his men surrounding the Naked Emperor protectively. Their rapiers were out, as was Fez's. The blades glinted steadily in the light as Kelso hurled Wolfsbane pellets. He must have hit a few of the wolves because the wind was dying down. Those freakin' wolves had to be "huffing and puffing," but Hyde wasted no time searching for proof.

He moved Forman's hand toward the hall's entrance, and Jackie's orange hair shone at him. A man, powerfully built, had her trapped in his arms—a wolf? He was dragging her out, getting away.

Hyde charged forward and knocked over chairs as he ran. The wind was half as powerful now. Forman finally kept the light steady for him, and Hyde reached the wolf before he could bring Jackie outside the hall.

Without a thought, Hyde's fist rammed into the wolf's brick-hard skull. His knuckles burned at the impact, but the wolf didn't go down. Instead, he simultaneously released Jackie and turned around.

"Hello," the wolf said politely, and his teeth gleamed in Forman's light. They were larger than a man's and more deadly, and they sunk into Hyde's left shoulder.

Pain crashed through his nerves, and Hyde grunted but let out nothing more. Pain he could handle, man. Pain, he could cut himself off from. His right hand clutched the back of the wolf's hair, but the wolf bit deeper into his flesh. Didn't matter. Hyde had enough traction and slammed his knee into the wolf's stones.

The wolf showed no reaction, but Hyde kneed him again and _again_ —until, at last, the wolf whimpered and crumpled to the floor.

"Kelso, get over here!" Hyde shouted. A scalding throb had set into his shoulder, but Jackie cuddled into to his side and dulled the pain.

He put an arm around her, and Kelso's leather-gloved hand appeared in Forman's light. The wolf was groaning on the floor, and Kelso whipped a Wolfsbane pellet at his face. The pellet exploded on the wolf's ear, covering it in blue dust, and the wolf grew silent.

He was out.

Kelso ran off, probably to Fez's side, but the palace guard burst into the banquet hall, carrying torches and halberds. One of the guards spotted the unconscious wolf at Hyde's feet and—unnecessarily—bashed him in the skull with the blunt end of his halberd.

Jackie hugged Hyde's waist tightly as the guards' torches lit up the hall. Over a dozen naked, paralyzed wolves littered the floor. Kelso was a damn good shot. He'd nailed them all with the Wolfsbane.

Half the guards rounded up the paralyzed wolves and dragged them out of the banquet hall. The Captain of the Guard, meanwhile, spoke to the Naked Emperor, Fez, and Kelso.

"Donna, Forman, you okay?" Hyde said. His friends were clinging together by the table, eyes wide with shock and fear.

"We're fine," Forman said with some trouble.

"They didn't come near us," Donna said, but the same couldn't be claimed for the acrobats. Several of them lay on the table with their throats ripped out. Others had chunks of flesh missing and were oozing blood. The musicians fared better. They'd been at the back of the banquet hall.

Guards kept pulling the wolves out of the hall, past where Hyde and Jackie stood. Jackie grasped Hyde's hand. Hers was wet, and he glanced down. A viscous ribbon of saliva was wound around her left ring finger. Her engagement ring glistened with spit, too.

She pulled him deeper into the hall, away from the guards and paralyzed wolves—and nowhere near the table. He couldn't blame her. It was covered in the dead or the dying, and she buried her head in his chest once they were situated against the stone wall.

"I thought wolves couldn't get into the Fifth Kingdom!" Donna shouted at the Naked Emperor. She'd disrupted his conversation with his guard captain.

"They're not," the Naked Emperor said. "The guards stationed at the borders have strict instructions to deny wolves entry."

"If that's true, man, you got people on the inside working for the outside." Hyde kept a firm grip around Jackie's back despite the burning pain in his shoulder. Her breathing had grown staccato, as if she were crying, but her voice made no sound. "You're safe, doll," he whispered. "Kelso's gonna give us some of that Wolfsbane, okay? They won't get the drop on us again."

Several minutes later, when the banquet hall had been completely cleared of wolves, a dozen nude women entered. They carried linen bags with them, and the leader—a chick with long, auburn hair—directed them to the wounded acrobats. The women took out bandages and flasks of powder. They must've been what passed for doctors around here.

The head doc, though, went to the Naked Emperor. She checked him over, and he said, "I'm fine, Emilia. I'm fine."

She looked over Fez and Kelso next, then Benedick and his men, but they all seemed uninjured. "What manner of magic is this?" Emilia said and peered up at the darkened glass ceiling. "Outside, the day is bright, yet night has fallen in here."

A deep voice boomed through the air. "No magic at all." It belonged to the guard captain, and he banged his halberd on the floor, cracking the stone. The guy had enough heft and muscle to be an NFL offensive tackle. "Wolfish trickery," he continued. "I believe they covered the palace roof with a heavy tarpaulin. I sent some of my men up there to take it down."

Jackie had stopped crying, and she withdrew from Hyde's arms for a tender kiss. Her face was wet with tears, but her lips silently told him she was all right. Her palms swept up his arms and beneath his short sleeves. He winced as her fingertips grazed his wounded shoulder—just pain. He could deal with it. Losing Jackie? That was another story.

She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward Emilia. "Jackie, I don't need—" he said, but she cut short his protest by pinching his earlobe. _Damn it._ Why the hell did she keep doing that? But he answered his own question. She couldn't communicate any other way, not now. The wind had scattered her paper across the banquet hall.

Emilia was busy instructing the guards on what to do with the dead acrobats. Jackie didn't seem to care. Of course she wanted the head doc to tend to him, but Hyde would be happy if none of them did. She patted Emilia's arm, and Emilia turned to them. "Do you need my help?"

Jackie directed her to Hyde's shoulder. His Zeppelin shirt had been torn by the wolf's teeth. It was also covered in blood.

"Yeah, you're busy," Hyde said. "I'll just get outta—"

"Don't be ridiculous," Emilia said. Carefully, she pulled open the shredded flaps of his shirt. His shoulder was smeared with crimson, and blood continued to trickle from the puncture wounds. "You're lucky. Wolves can rend flesh clean off a man's body."

"No kidding." He glanced at the acrobats lying dead behind him. They looked like the main course at a feast, half-eaten and bleeding on the table.

"Take off your shirt," Emilia said. He did, and she soaked a rag in a flask of water. She blotted his shoulder with the rag until the wound was clean. Then she poured a vial of clear liquid onto it.

He hissed as the dull throb became a searing heat, and Jackie stroked his cheek with the back of her hand. "It's fine," he said, but he was glad for her touch.

Next, Emilia packed the wound with some kind of moss. The pain cooled, but his heart slammed against his ribs like it wanted to escape. Dark thoughts were gathering at the horizon of his awareness. He ignored them, focused on Emilia's fingers as she dressed his wound. Eventually, a gauze bandage was wrapped around his shoulder and armpit.

"How long do I have to keep this on?" The bandage limited his range of movement. It was itchy, too.

"Ideally, you'd get that changed every day, but leave it on for two." Emilia had soaked the bloody part of his shirt in water and rung it out. But now she was sewing the rip with a needle and red thread. Her fingers moved nimbly, and his shirt was back on him in a minute.

"Thanks," he said, though he was surprised _anyone_ had thread in this place. At least the doctors here had real supplies, not bullshit delusions. Maybe that potion Forman swallowed down actually was invisible.

Emilia returned her attention to the dead, and Hyde was relieved. "Wolf got you pretty bad, huh?" Forman said. He and Donna had joined him and Jackie by the medics.

"I got off easy." Hyde thumbed behind him at the table, eliciting a nod from Forman.

Light finally flooded into the banquet hall, and Hyde looked up. The palace guards were standing on top of the glass ceiling, pulling back what had to be the tarp.

"Huffers and Puffers," Fez said several feet away.

The Naked Emperor was standing beside him, and his forehead creased. "Indeed. Powerful lungs those wolves have—and conniving minds. Perhaps they were the ones who pilfered the Princess Pea, and they were trying to steal it back."

"I don't think so," Donna said. "They mainly live in the Second Kingdom... right, Fez?" Fez confirmed it. "So how would stealing something from the Fifth Kingdom help them gain more status there? With Queen Gretel dead, her half of the kingdom is basically up for grabs. Queen Riding Hood is their main concern. They'd want to have leverage over her...or _you,_ Fez, right? Since you're that kingdom's steward now."

"Yes," Fez said, and Forman finally lost his deer-in-the-headlights expression. He'd stuck his lit hand in his pants pocket, but his other held onto Donna's waist, and he gave her a squeeze.

"Truly, you could hold your own in any royal court, m'lady," he said.

"The Second Kingdom has a very delicate balance of power," Fez continued. "It still hasn't recovered from the civil war between the north and south, and the wolves must sense that vulnerability."

Benedick stepped forward from his men. He held one the few non-broken wine glasses and gestured to himself with it. "They didn't attack the most noble of us." Then he gestured at the Naked Emperor. "Your Most-Esteemed Highness has nary a scratch, nor does King Fez What could they possibly want?"

Hyde had a pretty good idea. He clasped Jackie's left hand and ran a thumb over her fingers. She flinched at his touch, like she was afraid he'd pull off the ring, but she didn't withdraw.

"Not to worry," the Naked Emperor said. "My interrogators will get answers. We'll learn how they stole into my kingdom—and why."

"Um... how exactly are you going to interrogate them, sir?" Forman said.

"Using the standard methods our kingdom has used for centuries."

Forman looked at Hyde as if he still didn't get it, and Hyde said, "He's gonna torture 'em. What do you think?"

"Yes, well..." The Naked Emperor shifted on his feet and cleared his throat. "We don't use that word. We prefer to call it 'interrogation'."

Hyde's gaze locked on the Emperor's wandering eyes. "Call it what, you want, man. Torture's torture."

"It's better than those filthy animals deserve," Benedick said, but Hyde had no energy to argue. All he wanted was a well-guarded room where he and Jackie could sleep—and shake off what they'd just been through.

* * *

A joint passed in front of Jackie's face, but she was too busy writing something down. The Naked Emperor's attendants had given her a new stack of paper and bundle of wax crayons. They'd also brought her, Steven, and their friends to the royal guest suites—huge, stone-bricked rooms with a bed, a window, and their own privy. They looked more like a prison cell, as far as she was concerned. No amenities like at Fez's castle, but at least the beds had sheets and pillows.

A sizable group of guards was stationed outside the suites along with a retinue of attendants. Steven had invited Eric and the rest to their room for a circle, and Michael offered to abstain from it. She was impressed. He really took his duty to protect Fez seriously, but Fez insisted Michael take a break.

She finished writing down her thoughts as smoke drifted into her nostrils. Even with Steven's corduroy jacket beneath her, the stone floor was unpleasant to sit on. The dreary surroundings, her cursed, bloated body—not to mention being attacked by wolves—all made clear how much danger she was in. But she couldn't escape, not yet, no matter how tempting Steven's stash was.

She held up her paper, and Steven read her words out loud. "'The wolf who grabbed me said Grayhead is excited to meet me. What does that mean?'" His eyes narrowed, and he turned toward Fez. "Who the hell's Grayhead?"

"The head of a wolf faction in the Second Kingdom," Fez said and sucked in a long drag from the joint. He coughed, and white smoke burst from his mouth. "It has been—" he coughed again and glared at the joint, "too long since I've had a circle. My lungs are not used to it."

Donna snatched the joint from him but didn't take a hit. "Why would this 'Grayhead' want Jackie? How does he even know Jackie exists?"

"Doesn't matter 'cause he ain't getting her." Steven put a hand on Jackie's knee, and his forearm hugged her thigh as he scooted closer. "Sooner we get outta this kingdom, the bett—Forman, would you quit waving that thing around?"

Eric had tried to take the joint with his lit hand, but his fingers couldn't grasp anything. The light beam glanced off Steven's shades then shone in Jackie's eyes, making her shut them.

"Hey, check this out," Eric said. He did something she couldn't see since her eyes were closed, but it must have been interesting because Donna, Michael, and Fez all voiced their awe.

"Ooh, me next!" Michael shouted, and Jackie opened her eyes. The joint was in Eric's mouth, and his lit hand beamed light into Michael's normal, flesh hand, illuminating Michael's bones. "Cool!"

Steven plucked the joint from Eric's lips. "Forman, point it at Kelso's ear. See if light comes out the other one."

Jackie sighed. This was ridiculous. How could they all be playing around at a time like this? Taking a break, no matter how well-earned, was definitely the wrong idea. She began to write that very sentiment down when Steven held the joint to her lips.

She shook her head, but he said, "Come on, Grasshopper."

"Don't you care why some wolf-leader wants me?" she wrote.

"Nope. Only _that_ he does, but alls we gotta do is break the curse, man, so we can go home. Then none of this means shit."

"A wolf came through the mirror before," she wrote, "into Point Place."

"Back when the mirror was in some prison and not being guarded," he said and offered her the joint again.

" _Ugh._ Fine," she said silently. She took her first hit, but if she got killed while high, Steven would be in _so_ much trouble.

* * *

After the circle, Jackie and Steven were left alone in their suite. Jackie was lying back on the bed, hands clasped behind her head. She couldn't sleep, unlike Steven. He was curled up next to her with his arm draped over her round stomach. He'd fallen dead-asleep... or so she thought.

"How're you holding up?" he said by her shoulder. He must have been half out-of-it because when she didn't answer— _couldn't_ answer thanks to her lack of voice—he said, "No one else is here, doll. You can tell me."

She blew out an audible breath and stared at the room's ceiling. Afternoon light shone against the gray stone, but it was soon replaced by Steven's bleary, azure eyes. He kept his weight off her by leaning on his arms, and she reached up and fuzzed one of his sideburns against he fingers. "You idiot," she said.

"Oh... right. Want me to get your paper?"

She shook her head, and he smiled at her— _damn him._ He looked incredibly sexy as tired and high as he was. She, however, had managed to take only a few hits off the joint before anxiety made her quit. No wonder she couldn't sleep.

"I'm getting pretty good at reading your lips, so you can answer me that way," he said. "Just keep it slow."

She ran her thumb over his smooth, bottom lip. She could read _his,_ too. His whole face seemed to be smiling, a bright spot in the gloom they'd found themselves in. He wanted her, and— _God,_ did her body want to respond, but her worried mind wouldn't allow it.

"Can't believe you haven't had a total freak-out about all this," he said. "You freaked out more when your hair turned orange."

A silent laugh escaped her. If she lost it now, even a little, she'd lose it completely. She'd be of no use to him or anyone.

" _Fuck,_ I miss the sound of you laughing..."

"You do?" she said.

"Yeah, and—" He angled his head down. His curly hair tickled her chin, and his eyes were hidden from her view. He seemed embarrassed, but he didn't continue until his eyes met hers again. "Jackie, I do miss your voice."

She burst into a grin. "I knew it! I knew it!" Then she cupped his cheeks and pulled him closer. "You can't live without my dulcet tones—admit it!"

He chuckled. "Didn't catch all that... but I caught enough." Then his focus sharpened, and his expression darkened. "I'd give up hearing Robert Plant's voice—and Zeppelin altogether—if I could hear you again, okay?"

"Oh, Steven..." Her heart fluttered; she was genuinely touched. "When you _can_ hear me again, I'm gonna say such dirty things to you."

She drew his face down and kissed him. He kissed her back—and kept on kissing her with all the skill and passion he possessed until her body could no longer hold on and released her pleasure. She snuggled deep in his arms afterward, tranquil as the throb between her thighs died down. If he'd come, too, she didn't know. But he seemed happy enough, combing his fingers through the back of her hair.

A deep breath lifted out of her, and her eyes fell closed. Finally, in the safety of his embrace, she could sleep. And she remained asleep until a strange bouncing against her butt woke her up.

_Steven's knee._ It was bouncing against her because he was keeping himself awake, listening to Zeppelin inside his head. They'd apparently shifted positions while she slept. Her back was up against his chest now, and his arm was hooked over her fleshy, non-existent waist. His fingers dangled dangerously close to her left hand, which she curled into a fist on the mattress.

"I know what you're doing," she said—but, of course, he couldn't hear her. She turned around to face him. "Don't pretend to be sleeping." Gently, she kissed both his closed eyelids, though poking them would've been more efficient.

"What's up?" he said. He was looking at her with faux innocence, and she grunted silently. The sun had gone down considerably, but enough light still filled the room for what she was about to attempt.

She pointed to her eye, as in "I". Then she shook her head— as in "no," but she meant "know". "What" was a hard one. She slid her palm down his back and patted his butt. "Butt" rhymed with "what," so close enough. For the last word, she fanned herself and mimed droplets of dew.

"I hate charades." Steven got off the bed and walked around to her side of it. The crayons and stack of paper were on the floor. He picked them up. "Just write it down."

She pulled the red crayon from the bundle and wrote in large capital letters, "YOU'RE STAYING AWAKE TO TAKE THE RING!"

He snorted incredulously. "No, I'm not."

"Oh, whatever." She dropped the crayons and stack of paper back onto the floor. Then she stood up, grasped the white comforter, and yanked. Steven was sitting on it, though, and she couldn't pull it off. "Move!" she ordered silently.

"Jackie, cut it out."

She let go of the comforter—he was lucky she didn't jab his wounded shoulder—and knelt on the floor. Her stack of paper rested by her knees. She wrote, "As long as you insist on taking the ring off my finger, I can't sleep in the same bed as you."

She tossed the paper up to him, and he sighed a moment later. "Fine. I won't. Just— _damn it,_ just get back here, all right?"

_Good,_ she thought and returned to the bed. He kissed her forehead before they lay down together. She trusted he wouldn't try that trick again—not until after dinner, at least. But she would do everything in her power not to let him take the ring. This load was hers to carry, and she _could_ carry it. If the effects of the curse were switched to him, he'd lose pieces of himself until nothing was left—and _that_ was a load she could not bear.

* * *

Fez had arranged it so dinner would be a private affair—not counting the guards posted outside his royal suite or the attendants who served them. Jackie was glad for it. Though she loved extravagant events where she could put her rich, upper-class upbringing to good use, she missed eating at home with Steven. He usually made them dinner, and she could wear flannel pajamas if she wanted while watching him cook. He was so foxy when preparing food. Sometimes, she'd interrupt him and they'd make love because she couldn't help herself.

Oh, she _really_ missed their apartment, small as it was.

But the dining area between Fez and Kelso's bedrooms would have to do. She couldn't call it cozy thanks to the lack of decoration. Its mullioned windows and round table were basic, as were the torchieres providing light. The attendants insisted the room had been embellished with Royal Dwarf architectural features, but it was hardly fit for a king—let alone a Burkhart.

The food, a least, made up for some of the pedestrian accommodations: wild turkey, cranberry sauce, and fresh peas. It was like Thanksgiving, and had Jackie not been sick to death of peas, she would've eaten them because they looked delicious. She cut into her slices of white meat hungrily, but a loud clatter startled the silverware from her fingers.

"Man, having a glowing hand sucks!" Eric said, and he flexed his leather-gloved fingers. His own knife had fallen into his cranberry sauce. "It has no strength."

"Let me see," Donna said, and she rolled up his sleeve. His wrist shone brightly in her face. "Eric, the venom's still moving up your arm. That 'antidote' did nothing."

Kelso waved his fork at Eric. A piece of turkey was stuck on it. "I'm tellin' ya, there's no cure for a flare-bug bite. That's why parents tell their kids _not_ to get bitten. Your whole body's gonna turn into a freakin' lightbulb."

"Terrific." Eric frowned as Donna cut his meat for him. "You married a lightbulb, Donna."

She glanced at Fez. "There's got to be _something_ that can help him."

"Yes, there may be," Fez said and picked up his glass of wine. He swirled it around. "You never know in the Nine Kingdoms. I was a dog. Then I was a gold dog. Then I was a dog again, and now I am King."

"Yeah, Eric." Jackie gestured to him with her own wine glass. "Fez started out as a foreign perv, but now he's a rich foreign perv with his own kingdom. It that can happen to him, curing your bug bite should be easy."

"Um... thank you?" Eric said, and Jackie remembered he couldn't hear her. Nobody could.

_Were they all deaf?_ She downed her wine as unpleasant thoughts jutted into her skull like stalagmites. Donna wasn't cursed into being a fat mute, and Eric's problem was basically medical. They just needed to find a doctor with a degree from the Nine Kingdoms' version of Harvard. Jackie grabbed some paper and a crayon from the floor and began to write that down.

Then she stopped.

Lashing out was instinct, her go-to place when something pissed her off. But Eric hadn't cursed her. It wasn't his fault she couldn't be heard. Instead, she wrote down what she'd said before, the comforting words about Fez and curing Eric's bug bite, and passed Eric the paper.

Donna read the paper, too, and spoke first. "Thanks, Jackie." Her tone was warm, and she hugged Eric's shoulders. "See? We're going to fix this."

Eric raised his eyebrows. "We?"

"Of course. We vowed to face our obstacles together, right?" She leaned in and kissed him, but the table exploded in _Boos!_ as Eric turned the kiss into a make-out.

"There's no Frenching at dinner!" Kelso shouted

Steven, though, lay a kiss on the ridge of Jackie's ear. "We're gonna fix our own shit, too," he whispered, and a strange feeling swept over her. This curse bound them to each other more tightly than her being pregnant would have. Abandonment was still an option if he ever knocked her up, not that he'd leave because of that. He always maintained he'd stick around for his child, regardless of not wanting kids.

But abandoning her now, cursed as they were, would accomplish nothing. They were both doomed whether she wore the ring or not—or if he stuck by her or not.

"If leaving me meant you'd become un-cursed," she wrote down, "would you do it?"

He squeezed her knee beneath the table. "No way in hell."


	25. Into the Breach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 25  
 **INTO THE BREACH**  


The next morning at dawn, Hyde asked a groggy Kelso for some Wolfsbane, but he gave a flat-out, "No," without explanation. Hyde didn't have the energy to beat one out of him, so he let it go. As long as he and Jackie stuck by Kelso, they'd be safe enough from the wolves.

Hyde's shoulder felt better than it had last night. The bandage still limited his range of movement, but he wouldn't touch it. The doc said to leave it on forty-eight hours, and Hyde could still carry weight on his shoulder like the knapsack—or Jackie, if necessary—so he was cool.

Breakfast was quick and hearty, eggs and sausage. Donna had to drag Forman from the meal, but they all made it to the Naked Emperor's state room on time. The room was stark, a plain wooden desk and four stone walls. The Emperor's head attendant, Camillo, stood by the door and seemed fascinated by its unembellished wood.

Fifth Kingdom citizens indulged in self-delusion. To Camillo and the Naked Emperor's eye, the room had to seem ornately decorated. Not that Hyde cared. He just wanted to get a move on.

Forman, Donna, and Hyde himself each got rapiers, thanks to Fez's request. Hyde and Forman hung theirs from their belts while Donna was given a baldric to wear. Jackie, though, refused to carry anything larger than a dagger. The Naked Emperor provided a sharp one, and she sheathed it in a band strapped to her thigh. The skirt of her burgundy dress hid it nicely.

Fez made a few other requests, which the Naked Emperor filled, mainly waterskins and candles. The ability to carry water was vital, even though it made Hyde's knapsack heavier. They were going to the Ninth Kingdom. Who the hell knew how long they'd be there or when they'd hit a town again?

One thing they didn't get, however, was a wolf whistle, the kind that incapacitated the wolves in Cinderella's castle. The Naked Emperor's palace wasn't outfitted with them. They were pure silver, apparently, and expensive. Plus, so few wolves trespassed into the Fifth Kingdom that dispatching them was usually no problem... except for yesterday.

"Benedick and his men have returned to Knackwürste," the Naked Emperor said. The desk was hiding his own knackwürst from view, but it probably wouldn't last. "They will keep an eye and ear out for news about the wolves. In the meantime, we've—" his voice caught, and he coughed, " _interrogated_ our prisoners."

Hyde stared at the Naked Emperor from behind his shades. _Torture,_ the man meant. Not that Hyde had any love for the wolves. They'd almost made off with his chick, and being chomped by one wasn't something he longed to repeat—but they were still people. Wolf-people, but... _whatever._ Treating them like garbage wasn't the way to foster peaceful relations.

"So far," the Naked Emperor said, "the only piece of information we've retrieved is a slippery one. They're trying to hoist responsibility for their actions onto the Red Caps. But don't worry," he thrust his fist into the air, and his jeweled crown shifted over his gray head, " _we'll break them yet._ "

"Red Caps?" Forman said, and Donna sighed.

"Queen Riding Hood's secret messengers," she said. "Don't you remember? Fez told us about them—"

"Oh, right. Sorry." Forman's lit hand gestured along with his lame apology. "'Scuse me for not remembering the _Fairy-Tale Encyclopedia,_ Donna. Some of us are trying not to get killed."

The light shone directly in Jackie's eyes, and she shielded her face with a piece of paper. Forman couldn't help it. He was twitchy, and he'd become a glow stick, but Hyde grasped Forman's sleeve and stuffed his hand into his pants pocket. The shining thing was a menace.

"Those vile, duplicitous wolves!" Fez spat. He was frowning, and his fist shook. "The Red Caps have nothing to do with the destruction last night. They put their lives in danger every time they set foot in the Second Kingdom's vast forest. They are incredibly brave."

"And hot!" Kelso said. "Well, the older ones are. They got some really young chicks in the Red Caps, too."

The Naked Emperor stepped out from behind the desk, exposing himself to everyone for the hundredth time since they'd met. "I suspect," he said with a flourish, "the wolves are simply blaming Queen Riding Hood for their actions. The north half of the Second Kingdom has never been gentle to their kind. The House of Red has instilled much anger in those animals, but they themselves are responsible for what they do."

He strode to the door, and Camillo opened it for him. The attendant's bright, blond hair stood in sharp contrast to the gray room, as did his sunny disposition. The Naked Emperor, meanwhile, bellowed at the guards outside to prepare the "royal coach".

Hyde kept a firm hold on Jackie's waist, as if wolves would strike at any moment. Yesterday had unsettled him, but going by the volume of the Naked Emperor's voice, Hyde wasn't the only one.

* * *

The Naked Emperor's coach brought everyone to the border between the Fifth and Fourth Kingdoms. They'd reached Dragon Mountain, and the coach traveled up the passes as high as the horses could safely pull it. They were going up the mountain's south side. Fez said they'd climbed the north side the last time they were here, and Hyde took his word for it. Hyde hadn't been with them then but with Laurie.

"Yeah, that's where we learned the Evil Queen was Eric's sister," Kelso said during the ride. "She was reflected in Snow White's hand mirror, but Jackie threw it into that raging water fall. Laurie could've flashed us, but you took that dream away from me, _Jackie!_ "

"I didn't want Laurie to see us," Jackie wrote on a piece of paper. "And stop talking about Eric's sister that way. Have some respect for the whorish dead."

Hyde glanced at Forman. Rather than participate in the conversation, Forman was gazing outside the coach's window. He'd begun to shut off, but that wasn't his job, man. That was _Hyde's_ mode of operation—according to Jackie, at least—yet Hyde bristled as Kelso said, "Jackie, Eric knows his sister could've flashed us, don't you, Eric—"

"Both of you, can it," Hyde said, but Donna's voice overrode his, shouting for Kelso to shut up.

"But, Steven," Jackie wrote, as if she'd heard only him, "I have no voice." She drew a frowny face next to her sentence and plumped out her bottom lip.

"Yeah, you do. It's as loud as ever, even on paper." Hyde eased his arm around her shoulders and whispered, "Just show some respect for the living, okay?"

She looked at Forman then nodded. Her hair brushed against the side of Hyde's face, and he nuzzled into it. The clock was counting down, faster than he ever thought it would, and he needed to soak in every moment they had remaining.

Eventually, the coach parked on a rocky plateau. Wind buffeted it in gusts, and Kelso said, "Guess this is our stop." He was the first one out, and after a moment speaking to the driver, he confirmed his guess to the rest of them.

The air was cold this far up Dragon Mountain, and the sky was overcast with gray. Only low-lying shrubs grew here, and a winding path led further up. Jackie and Donna were both wearing dresses. They could've used a change of wardrobe, but good luck finding clothes in a kingdom full of nudists. Hyde and Forman had tried back in the Naked Emperor's palace.

Jackie's shoulders were bare, and Hyde draped his corduroy jacket over them. Forman put his suit jacket over Donna's shoulders, too, and Donna said, "Chivalry's not dead."

"Nope, it isn't," Kelso said. "I always offer to nail hot chicks. If that ain't chivalry, I don't know what is."

Hyde raised an eyebrow. "No, that's _charity..._ on the chicks' part."

The coach started on its journey down, and Fez surveyed the rocky plateau. "Now that I am in my right mind—and not a doggy one," he said, "I remember where the Ninth Kingdom's south entrance lies. My grandfather took me once."

He moved forward on the winding path, and everyone followed. Half a mile up, grave markers stuck from the ground on either side of them. They'd reached the dragon slayers' camping grounds. Tattered tents swayed in the wind. Rusted shields and dusty flags jutted from the dry dirt—these were the grave markers, and each had distinct blazons matching those of the tents.

Hyde hung back a minute with Jackie clinging to his arm. She mouthed, "What are you doing?" but he picked up the least blackened shield he could find. He rapped his knuckles on it, and the shield crumbled to dust.

"Huh. Seemed like a good idea," he said, and Jackie swatted his wounded shoulder. Pain shot past his elbow into his fingers. "Okay, okay," he said before she could hit him again. He let her lead them back to the group, and she walked in front of him—and backward. "Jackie, what're you—"

She cupped his cheeks and made him focus on her face. "You're scaring me," she mouthed slowly.

"I'm just tryin' to gear-up. The Naked Emperor doesn't believe in armor... or shields. Otherwise, I'd be decked out in metal right now."

"Why?" she mouthed.

The question startled him. Did she really not get it, where they were headed? He pulled her hands from his cheeks and brought her back to his side. He remained silent, trying to work out a decent way of explaining himself—and wishing she'd realize it on her own.

Then he got his wish.

They'd reached a statue depicting a knight and a dragon. The dragon's tail was coiled around the knight's lance, and the lance's tip impaled the dragon's underbelly. Jackie squeezed Hyde's hand and shook her head. She understood now, what he might have to do.

An inscription on the statue's base read, "Prince Charmant Slays the Dragon". Hyde stared down at Jackie's engagement ring. Its cursed diamond had come from that dragon's hoard.

"Propaganda's everywhere, man," he muttered. "Fez, if your gramps had actually done what that statue claims he did, Jackie wouldn't be going through this crap."

"My grandfather truly thought he'd slew the dragon," Fez said, "but if it did not die from the wound..." He ran his fingers along the dragon's stone underbelly, and his voice grew heavy. "Dragons were known to heal themselves slowly, and they could live for hundreds of years." His gaze moved to Hyde and Jackie, but he said nothing more.

The six of them continued their hike up the mountain, but Hyde guessed what Fez was thinking. Like him, Fez probably didn't know which possibility to root for: the dragon being alive or it being dead. One meant breaking the curse, and the other meant Hyde not getting burnt to ashes.

Hyde looked over at Jackie, whose grip hadn't eased on his hand. She seemed to be mouthing something repeatedly. "Slower," he said, and she glared at him.

Her eyes were tearless and hard, and her lips moved with a barely controlled anger. "Foreigners never finish the job."

"Oh." He tried not to laugh. Her prejudices, though not his favorite personality trait, gave him some comfort in this mess. In spite of losing her ability to speak, despair hadn't taken the rest of her. "We don't know the dragon ain't dead," he said. "Fez's grandpa might've—"

She shoved her left hand at his face. Even in the dull, clouded-over sky, her ring shone brightly, tauntingly. He wanted to rip it off her finger.

"Yeah, I get it." He pressed a kiss into her palm before pushing down her hand.

Fez led them quickly up the winding, rocky path. Less than an hour later, they made it to the mouth of the dragon cave. It didn't look like anything special. No dragon skull with sharp teeth formed the opening, but a name was carved into the stone above it: Charmant.

"Your grandfather was French?" Donna said to Fez. She was holding Forman's hand, the normal one, and Hyde wondered about the other. How much farther the light had traveled up Forman's arm?

"No, just his nickname," Fez said. "His real name would be as hard for you to pronounce—or remember—as mine."

Hyde's pulse tightened. The cave—and maybe a dragon—were waiting for him. He stood next to the dark opening and hooked his shades onto his shirt collar. He clutched his belt buckle, too, and tried to stay Zen though his breath left him shakily. Jackie hadn't left his side, and she looped her arms through one of his. She held on tightly as he studied each of his friends' faces. Speech-making was never his thing, so he got to the point. "No one's gotta go in there but me."

"What?" Forman let go of Donna's hand and stepped toward him. "You're not going in there alone."

"Appreciate the thought, Forman, but—"

Forman removed the leather glove covering his lit hand. "You're gonna need a light, right?"

Hyde nodded, knowing Forman wouldn't back down. How the hell had he earned a friend like that?

"It'll be like Han and Chewie in _The Empire Strikes Back,_ when they stepped out onto that asteroid," Forman said, "which wasn't really an asteroid but the inside of a horrible space slug..." He screwed up his face. "Yeah, that thing tried to eat the Millennium Falcon. Great idea, Han. Luke wouldn't have gotten Leia into that kind of—"

"Forman," Hyde said.

"Right." Forman cleared his throat. Then he put the glove back on his hand and patted Hyde's shoulder. "Anyway, I'll be right on your heels, buddy."

"Heh. You've really grown a pair, huh?"

"You've seen them, Hyde, _too_ much." Forman turned back to Donna. "Um..."

She stepped forward. "Yeah, I'm going, too."

"As am I," Fez said. "I gave you that ring, Hyde, so I'm partially responsible for your curse."

"Then let's go!" Kelso said enthusiastically. He gripped the hilt of his rapier and charged the cave, but Hyde blocked him.

"Kelso, you've gotta stay out here with Jackie. Someone's gotta protect her. I'm gonna take the ring and—"

No sooner had the words flown from Hyde's mouth than pain sunk into his earlobes. They were being pinched by two small but powerful hands, and his knees buckled at the pressure.

"Jackie," he managed to say, but she didn't loosen her hold. "Shit, just—just let me toss the ring onto the—onto the..." He shut his eyes. Tears were gathering at the corners. She knew exactly where to hurt him for maximum results. He grasped her wrists, pushed his thumbs into her palms, and rubbed gentle circles on them.

The tactic was cruel, using tenderness when she was so pissed, but it was effective. Her fingers sprang off his earlobes, and her eyes grew wet. "Please," she mouthed. "Puddin', don't leave me."

He'd been wrong. She wasn't pissed; she was afraid.

He took her hand with a defeated sigh. They were in this shit together, like it or not.

"Time's-a-wastin'," he said and led everyone into the cave. They moved cautiously through the entrance, leaving behind the dull light of the overcast sky. Only darkness seemed to lay ahead. The air inside was moist and colder than outside, and a faint metallic scent hung in it.

Jackie stuck close to his side as they walked forward, but he wanted her behind him, to shield her if, for instance, a dragon were to snort fire in their direction. She refused, though, so he kept his hand by the hilt of his sword. It would have to do.

The passage from the entrance sloped downward, and soon the six of them were swallowed by complete darkness. Forman uncovered his shining hand. He rolled up his sleeve, revealing that the light had spread halfway toward his elbow.

"Oh, my God—Eric!" Donna said.

"Don't worry about it," Forman said, "not right now."

He swept the light along the cave walls and floor. Gold, jewels, and all sorts of treasure were piled in mounds around them. Sapphire-orbed scepters shone beside silver boxes and pearl necklaces.

Jackie gasped breathily. She withdrew from Hyde's side, and her arms stretched toward a hill of sparkling jewels.

He yanked her back. They were at the dragon's hoard, and if that sucker was still alive... "Nobody touch anything," he said.

"But it's a mountain of gold!" Kelso shouted. "I wanna swim in it!" He moved to dive into a mound of coins.

Forman got in front of him. "We're here for Hyde and Jackie, remember? If there _is_ a dragon here, we don't want to call attention to ourselves."

"Hyde and Eric are right," Fez said, but Kelso edged toward the gold coins. "Kelso, I order you not to dive into that treasure.

"But I wanna!"

Like Forman, Fez stood between Kelso and the mound, and he thrust a finger into Kelso's face. "No. You do not play with dragon hoards, even if the dragon is dead. Too much risk. It could all be cursed if the dragon is still alive, and it is definitely enchanted. People who have a soft spot for material wealth are often attracted to dragon treasure."

Hyde glanced at Jackie's longing face, visible in the light of Forman's hand. Hyde's arm was hooked around her waist, and she struggled against him like she still wanted those jewels. That stuff was definitely enchanted.

"Actually, _don't_ we want to call attention to ourselves?" Donna said. She was standing away from the treasure. "We have to know if the thing's alive and give it the ring or kill it... Wait, how the hell are we gonna kill a fire-breathing dragon? Oh, God," she grabbed Forman's arm, "what are we doing here?"

Donna's panic had snapped Jackie out of her jewel-daze. Hyde let her go, and she marched to Donna and pinched her between the shoulder and neck.

"Jackie—ow!" Donna shouted. "Okay, I remember. I remember. We're here for you."

"Cool. Vulcan neck pinch," Kelso said.

"Look, alls we gotta do is figure out if the dragon's dead or not," Hyde said. "Gotta be clues around here like dragon shit or rotting remnants of breakfast. If we find a huge turd, that'll be enough for me. Then we can chuck Jackie's ring on top of that pile," he pointed a golden mound," and hightail it outta here."

Forman gestured ahead of them with his lit hand, "Sounds good to me," and led everyone away from the treasure hoard. No steaming dragon turds covered the floor, just cold rock, but a strange crackling echoed around them. It grew louder as they went, and Hyde couldn't tell where it came from.

"What's that?" Forman said. "Is it fire? Is the dragon coming to kill us?"

The cave felt no warmer than before, and they had no sign of another light.

"Calm down," Hyde said. "It's probably bats or rats or—"

Forman's light streaked downward, followed by a _thud._ "The dragon's got me!" he cried. "Save yourselves. Save your—"

"Forman, relax!" Hyde bent to the floor. Forman had fallen down on his stomach, between a pair of giant, upside-down ribs. More pairs stretched before them in rows—a giant ribcage. "The dragon did get you, man, but it looks like Fez's grandpa got to it first. It's dead."

Jackie tapped Hyde's chest after he helped Forman up. The mixture of relief and disappointment on her face matched how he felt.

"Yeah, I know, doll," he said. "There goes our 'easy' solution."

"So what does this mean?" Donna said. She was using Forman's lit hand to examine the dragon's ribs. "Who cursed you? And _why?_ "

"Oh, we _will_ find out," Fez said. "I won't stop searching for the culprit until—"

"Wahoo!" Kelso's shout came from behind them, as did a metallic crash.

Hyde and Forman glanced at each other; then they dashed back to the dragon hoard. Kelso, the moron, had dove into one of the treasure mounds, spilling gold coins everywhere. Hyde's muscles tensed until a thunderous sound, like stone grinding on stone, reached them from the mouth of cave.

"No!" Forman bolted past the treasure; the entrance was collapsing. "Guys, help!" Forman yelled, but by the time Hyde reached him, the cave mouth had shrunk to nothing.

Hyde patted the rock from top to bottom, searching for some kind of seam or magic button. "It's sealed," he concluded out loud. "We're trapped."

"This can't be happening. This _cannot_ be happening!" Forman said, and he searched the rock himself with his lit hand.

"What _did_ happen?" Donna said. She and Fez had dragged a Jackie-encumbered Kelso to the entrance. Jackie was clinging to his back and screaming silently into his ear.

"The moron tripped a booby trap!" Hyde slammed his left fist into Kelso's shoulder, not once but repeatedly. He wanted it to hurt worse than his own wolf-bitten shoulder. All that running hadn't done him any favors. "Cave's closed for business."

Jackie climbed off Kelso's back and kicked his calf. He cried out and fell to the ground, and she continued her silent tirade at him. Hyde agreed with the sentiment, if not the words—since he couldn't hear them.

"You idiot!" Fez said. His hands were on his hips, and he loomed over Kelso's prone body. "I gave you an order!"

Kelso pushed himself back to his feet and dusted himself off. "Who knew the treasure was booby-trapped? Scrooge McDuck always had fun swimming in all his money, but it's not fun at all. I'm gonna be farting out gold coins for days."

"There are no boobies, only traps. And when I give you an order, you must obey it." Fez's brow was furrowed, and his jaw clenched. "You are demoted."

"Wha—?" Kelso blinked, as if he didn't understand. "But, Fez—"

"I said, 'Demoted!' Give me your captain's insignia." Fez presented his palm. "You are now a first lieutenant."

"Fine!" Kelso's fingers flew to his jacket collar. They had trouble unpinning his captain's badge, but he eventually forked it over to Fez.

"There has to be another way out of here," Donna said. "Or maybe the entrance will open again in, like, twenty-four hours or something."

Fez's stare hadn't moved from Kelso, who looked miserable. Hyde would've felt bad for the guy if he hadn't screwed them all over. "There is always a way out," Fez said, "and it is called death."

Jackie thrust herself into Hyde's arms, and Hyde scowled. "Fez, cut the gloom-and-doom crap."

"Ai... I'm sorry, but Kelso has made me angry."

"Yeah, well, get over it and _think,_ man."

"I was doing a victory lap!" Kelso yelled. "Who wants to be fried by a dragon?"

"Okay, okay—" Forman waved his lit hand in the air, "whoever has the light shining on them gets to speak." Then he moved it beneath his chin. "This is the Ninth Kingdom, right? And this is Dragon Mountain, which means Dwarves. Fez, they love you. If we can make it to the mines, they'll help us out—literally."

Kelso took hold of Forman's wrist and beamed the light on himself. "N'uh-uh! They probably still want a piece of my hide for breaking all those mirrors. It wasn't my fault. I had bad luck."

" _You_ arebad luck," Fez said.

"Hey, you can't speak," Kelso said. "The light's not on you."

"I am King. I'll speak whenever I want to speak, you sonuva—"

Donna stepped between them. "Enough. Let's move."

She pushed both of them forward, toward the dragon hoard. Forman stepped out in front, and Hyde had to keep Jackie from snatching a ruby from a jewel pile. But once they were past all the treasure, whatever allure it had seemed to fade.

The dragon's ribcage was difficult to maneuver, even with Forman's light. The bones were chest-high, and Hyde chose to duck beneath them instead of climbing over. He helped Jackie do the same, but as they went, a hungry sort of grief filled him. He wanted to talk to her, to _hear_ her.

Used to be he couldn't stand her voice. He'd often imagine her vocal chords fraying into silence, but now— and for so long, it seemed—her voice was as vital to him as her touch, the way it comforted and complained, shared her pleasure and her rage...

They had to get it back.

* * *

The dragon's ribcage seemed to go on forever, and Jackie was tired of doing the limbo beneath its thick, curved bones. That strange crackling continued to trail them, too. It had to be rats skittering inside the cave walls—but as long as they weren't magical rats that spewed acid, she'd scream only half as much when they crawled over her feet...

Not that anyone would hear her scream.

"Keep an eye on the ground, Eric," Fez said. He'd taken the lantern from his knapsack and kindled it with Steven's lighter. The Eternal Flame candle shone brightly behind the lantern's glass. "You never know when the cave floor could open into a deep pit. We could all fall to our deaths."

"Great," Eric said, and he adjusted the angle of his lit hand.

Steven pointed to Fez's shining lantern. "Hey, why was it so lame with us when we were in the island's forest? It's nice and bright now."

"Because _I_ gave it its quenching words. The candle is attuned to me."

"Oh, who cares?" Jackie said and gestured for everyone to get moving.

The dragon's ribs were growing shorter now, too short. They could no longer be crawled through, and Jackie scrambled over them ungracefully. Steven offered his help, but she refused. He already had a knapsack full of sausage to carry on a wounded shoulder. He didn't need her slowing him down.

Hard bone pushed into her stomach as she rolled off the final rib. Her heart pounded from the effort, but how could she have lost that much stamina? Her perfectly-trained, perfectly-toned cheerleader body could practice for hours. But this cursed, fat-filled body could barely climb a few hurdles.

She sighed, and Steven put a comforting arm around her shoulders. She wanted to bury herself in his touch and scent, to have him bury himself between her thighs, to have some distraction from all this—

"Wolf!" Donna shouted.

Orange eyes gleamed in Eric's light, and then they vanished—with _Donna._ Those horrible animals had followed them here. They'd stolen Donna, just as they'd tried to take Jackie at the Naked Emperor's palace.

"Donna!" Eric's scream broke into Jackie's heart, but he surged forward, plunging everyone else into darkness.

He'd become an unbelievably fast runner. Jackie used to lap him during high school, but now she was frozen in place. Visions of Donna's mutilated throat had paralyzed her. She couldn't lose her best friend. She'd sacrifice ever regaining her angel-like voice if Donna stayed alive.

"Jackie, come on." Steven gripped her hand. His touch reanimated her, and they raced ahead. But her breath was burning inside her chest, and her foot caught on the skeletal tail of the dragon. The force of her fall ripped her hand from Steven's, and darkness enveloped her as she hit the ground.

"Jackie, where are you?" Steven said, and she called out to him silently. "Damn it, I can't see you. Clap your hands!"

She did, and strong arms lifted her up—but it was so dark. She couldn't be sure if those arms were Steven's or a wolf's. Whoever's they were, they put her over a shoulder. She hated being carried that way, like a sack of meat. Her arms dangled over something lumpy—a knapsack?—and by her captor's legs, and she grabbed onto the ass above them.

She knew that butt. She loved that butt. It was round and perfect and Steven's. She slapped it and ordered him, unheard, to put her down.

"Just getting us past the bones," Steven said. "It's easier this way, Grasshopper."

She relaxed and let him carry her without a fight, but her fists clenched as Donna shouted, "Let go of me!"

Steven put Jackie down, but he clasped her hand as they charged forward. Donna's shouts were echoing farther and farther away, combined with Eric's cries for her. Only the light of Fez's lantern was visible, and tears rose in Jackie's eyes at Eric's desperate pleas for his wife.

"Oh, God," Eric said, suddenly sounding very close. "There are three tunnels here." His lit hand reappeared, and he shone it down each passage—repeatedly, obsessively—as Donna's voice shrank to nothing.

He thrust himself into a passage, but Michael yanked him back. Michael had caught up to him just in time, and as Eric fought to free himself, Jackie, Steven, and Fez joined them.

"Kelso—" Eric said, "the wolf! Let go—"

"Forman, hold on," Steven said. "You don't know which way he took her."

"Yes," Fez said. "We have to split up."

_Split up?_ Jackie's heart was beating too fast, and she struggled not to vomit. "But, Fez," she said, "you and Eric have the only lights!" Her tone was pure panic, but only she had heard it. In the cave's darkness, her lips weren't visible—and Eric wouldn't give her mouth any attention. His lit hand was busy shining down one of the passages.

But she had to communicate somehow. She stomped over to Eric and clutched his sleeve. She waved his lit hand around wildly.

"Yeah. Kelso, pull out one of your candles," Steven said, and she was grateful. He'd understood her meaning.

She returned to his side. He removed a tapered candle from his own knapsack, and she did the same from hers. The candles were already placed in short glass holders, each with a glass collar. They would shield their hands from dripping wax.

"They're not much," Steven said, "but we got no choice." The small flame of his lighter sparked to life, and he lit the candles.

"Kelso, how many Wolfsbane pellets do you have left?" Fez said.

Michael pulled the pouch off his baldric. "Six," he said, and Jackie let out an astonished, inaudible squeak. No wonder he hadn't given Steven any Wolfsbane this morning. It was almost gone.

"Give one pellet to each of us," Fez ordered, and Michael did except for Eric. His light had disappeared.

"Hey, where'd Eric go?" Michael stuck his head down one of the passages and shouted, "Eric!" Then he turned to Fez. "I can see his glowing arm, but it's fading."

"Ai, but he is defenseless."

"He's got a sword," Michael said.

"Like Fez said, Forman's defenseless." Steven pulled Jackie toward Eric's passage. "Besides having no skill, his right hand's useless. His left would be lucky to poke out his own eye, let alone sword-fight."

Fez unsheathed his rapier. "I'll go—"

"No, me and Jackie'll follow Forman. You two split up and take the other tunnels."

"I can't leave Fez," Michael said.

"Unlike Eric," Fez said, "I know how to use a sword, and I have Wolfsbane. It will be fine."

"Here," Steven tossed Michael his lighter, "in case your candle goes out. Move your asses."

He brought Jackie into the dark passage, but she wasn't happy. What about _their_ candles? Theirs could go out, too—especially if they had to run. She squeezed his palm and pointed her candle at his.

"We'll have light soon enough if our candles go out," he said. "We're following Forman." Then, as more adrenaline spilled into her terrified body, he whisked them deeper into the tunnel.


	26. The Worst of Their Kind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.
> 
> **Author's Note:** A few lines of dialogue are taken directly from _The 10th Kingdom._

CHAPTER 26  
 **THE WORST OF THEIR KIND**  


The wolf had Donna slung over his shoulder, and she had no way of reaching her sword. It was sandwiched between her leg and his torso. The candles in her knapsack wouldn't help either. Even if she could get to them, how would she light them? No matches. So she used the only weapons available to her, her voice and fingers.

She shouted in the wolf's ear and clawed at his furry tail, but her efforts made no damn difference. His bumpy but quick gate brought her farther and farther away from Eric. The light of Eric's hand had disappeared too long ago.

"Whatever you want, I don't have it," she said hoarsely. "Whatever you think I did, I didn't do." Her intellect had always been her greatest tool, but how could she reason with an animal? Because these wolves _were_ animals of the most brutish kind, despite their human form. The chewed-up acrobats at the banquet had demonstrated that. But she kept on trying anyway. "Fez—King Fez is open to negotiation. If you—"

The wolf answered by stopping. She couldn't see where they were. They hadn't reached any sort of cave opening, and only the sound of his breath filled her ears. Nothing smelled any different, either. Just damp, dank earth.

He lowered her to the ground as her frenzied mind pleaded, _Please, don't kill me, please, don't kill me!_ But his touch was surprisingly gentle until he gripped her wrists. He pushed her against a wet, rocky wall, and a pair of orange eyes blazed at her.

"Eric!" she shouted. She refused to cry, but her palms were sweating. The wolf had to know how terrified she was. He could probably smell it.

"You don't have to worry," the wolf said, and she recognized the voice. It had spoken to her during the Glass Slipper Ball—behind the guise of a warty Goblin. He was same animal who'd tried to eat her last year at Fez's coronation. "You'll be back with your friends soon."

"Why?" she said and struggled against his grip. "Because your friends are gonna kill them, too?"

"Oh, no!" he said, sounding genuinely hurt, and his orange eyes dulled. "I'm not going to kill you, and those 'friends' you met last night have nothing to do with me. They give us wolves a terrible reputation." His hold on her wrists loosened until she tried to rip free. "No, I've been trying to apologize."

"Wh—what?"

"All those months ago, when I almost ate you, I was under a bad influence."

"Uh-huh..." She didn't believe him, but her confusion had stolen some of her fight. Perhaps that was his goal, to weaken her by befuddlement.

"I'm not who I used to be," he said. "I've had extensive therapy. I realized I was using food as a substitute for love, and I have the books to prove it."

He transferred Donna's right wrist to his other hand—which already had the task of holding her left wrist—but he managed to keep her immobilized. His strength was incredible, and if he wanted to kill her, he could easily do it... yet judging from the slight jerk of his movements, he seemed to be rifling in his clothes.

"See?" His thumb—or something—flipped through what sounded like book pages.

"No," she said. "It's pitch-dark. I can't read the cover."

"Oh." He made those same jerky movements, as if he were putting the book back, and she took her chance. Her knee swung up toward what she hoped were his balls, but she hit what felt like the hem of a wool coat—and he didn't seem to appreciate her attack. Her wrists returned to each of his hands, and he pressed her a little harder against the cave wall.

"If you don't let me go right now," she said, "I'm gonna shove my foot so far up your ass!"

"That is what is known as an empty threat." His voice had a slight growl to it, and she began to shake. But, instead of tearing out her throat, he released one of her wrists.

Her newly-freed hand shot to the hilt of her rapier, but she clutched nothing but the sheathe. The bastard had taken her sword. "How did you—?" she said, but he cut her off.

"I hope you don't mind me saying this, but I get the feeling you still don't completely trust me." His breath warmed her face. He was standing so close to her, as if her freed hand were no concern, as if he felt no sense of threat from her at all.

Yet she felt _incredibly_ threatened. Only Red Forman had ever frightened her like this, but he was Captain Kangaroo in comparison to these wolves.

"M—maybe—" she said, trembling, "maybe the fact th—that you kidnapped me has something to do with it?" Her shakes had grown worse, fueled by a mixture of rage and fear, and she hated it. "You freakin' wolves ha—have been attacking us since we got here."

"I'm sorry," he said, again sounding genuine. "I would have spoken to all of you, but I didn't want to be Wolfsbaned. Wolfies don't enjoy that too much, but you must listen to me, Donna—" she winced at the use of her name, "I wouldn't hurt a sausage. Butter would not melt in my mouth. Well, it would melt. Of course it would. But very slowly."

She didn't want to believe him, but the way he spoke made it hard not to. Still, she fought against him, and this time she wrenched her other wrist free of his fingers, but his reflexes were astounding. He grasped her shoulders and kept her from escaping.

"Those wolves who are after, you," he said, "their hearts are burnt bacon. There is more going on here than you understand."

"Why are they after us?" she said and stared at his eyes. Their orange light had faded to an ember, and she tried to discern any true kindness in them. "What do they want?"

"What do any of us want? Freedom to live the way we are." The orange light was completely gone, and his hands fell from her shoulders. "But the wolves who are after you don't care who they have to bite in order to get it. Escaping the fire by shoving others into the flames, that's no victory."

The sincerity in his voice was unmistakable. He meant what he was saying. Either that, or he was the best liar Donna had ever met. Regardless, with his hands off her, she began to relax.

"Does this have to do with the Second Kingdom," she said, "Queen Gretel's death, Queen Riding Hood, and all that?"

"Exactly! Exactly. Most of us have to live in underground villages because we are hunted everywhere. Wolves already get a bad rap—"

"Gee, I wonder why..."

"Are all humans held responsible for their worst examples?"

She hesitated before answering. The question had super-heated her mind, and the pressure created crystals of doubt. "Good point."

"Wolves are terribly suppressed in the north," he continued. "The south tolerates us better, but if Queen Riding Hood the Third is allowed control of the whole kingdom..."

She nodded despite the darkness. "Okay, I get why wolves might be a little... _cranky_ lately. But what do they want with us? We have nothing to do with it. We're nobody. Well, we're Fez's friends. King Fez—is that it?"

The wolf laughed, and it wasn't a bad laugh. It reminded her of Eric's, a little devious while still being friendly. "I wish! The wolves aren't interested in all of you. Just two. That small, cursed girl you're with—"

"Jackie?" She stepped away from the rocky cave wall. Her fear had been swallowed by the desperate need for information. If this wolf could help her best friend... "Do you know who cursed her?"

"The ring she wears, it mustn't be put on the wrong finger. She and her boyfriend have to break the curse before—" The wolf stopped speaking. His words were replaced by a noise like a sustained sniff.

"Before what?" Donna said and reached for him blindly. "Before what?"

"Huff-puff!" he shouted, and a heavy weight fell into her arms—his body? She grabbed onto it—onto _him,_ but he was out.

She lowered him to the ground, and when she looked back up, a small light flickered in front of her. It was a candle's flame, and it lit up a familiar face.

"Kelso?"

"All right! I got him!" Kelso said. He must have Wolfsbaned the wolf, and she strode up to him, both happy and angry to see him. "Are you gonna kiss me?" He puckered his lips. "'Bout time."

"No, yo idiot." She swatted his arm, but only half-heartedly. "He was on _our_ side... I think."

"The wolf? But he's a wolf!"

"Not all wolves are the same, dillhole."

"Well, damn, Donna! How was I supposed to know? He kidnapped you!"

"Yeah, I know." She glanced behind her at the wolf's body. In the light of Kelso's candle, she made out his tail. It was kinked, as if it had healed from a puncture wound. He was definitely the one who'd tried to eat her last year. Kelso had rescued her then by stabbing him.

"Thanks for saving me..." she slid a palm over Kelso's shoulder and kissed his cheek, "even though it turned out I didn't need it."

"You're welcome," he said. "And I really think I deserve a _French_ kiss—or at least let me cop a feel—'cause I traveled down a dark, scary tunnel all by myself, and I kept hearing weird crackling sounds and moaning, and I don't think we're alone in here!"

_Moaning?_ She couldn't worry about that right now. "How long does the effect of Wolfsbane usually last?"

"A couple of hours, at least."

"Damn it. We'll have to drag him."

Kelso raised his hands and waved the candle around. "No way. No freakin' way. I'm not carrying a wolf."

"Kelso!"

"I'm sorry, Donna, but you don't know wolves that well. I've been here almost a year, and I've had run-ins with more than one. They're nasty, pretending to be all nice when they're not. They're like wolves in sheep's clothing. You can't trust them."

She clenched her jaw. That wolf couldn't have been lying to her, but she'd known Kelso her whole life—and the wolf for ten minutes. "All right," she said. "Let's go."

Kelso gave her a candle with a glass drip-guard, and he lit the wick with his own candle. She used the light to find her rapier, which was stashed on the wolf's paralyzed body. It was tucked into his cotton trousers, and how he'd done that was beyond her... and another question she wouldn't be able to ask him.

With the rapier sheathed in her baldric, she and Kelso walked away from the wolf and down the tunnel. She expected to find Eric and their friends a few feet beyond, but they weren't there.

"Hey, where's everyone else?" she said.

"We split up. There were three tunnels."

Donna groaned. _Great._ She and Kelso were traveling a sprawling cave with only candles for light. "How are we gonna find them?"

He shrugged. "Maybe they'll find us."


	27. Corrosive Noise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. “That's the Way I've Always Heard It Should Be” copyright 1975 Elektra Entertainment. “Big Balls” copyright 1976 Sony Records Inc.

CHAPTER 27  
 **CORROSIVE NOISE**  


Eric had no concept of time in the dank tunnel. He could've been traveling for five minutes or five hours. But his senses had grown preternaturally acute. Thanks to the light of his hand, the cave seemed bright as day to him. Every crag in the wall was visible, as well as the rock's sheen of water, but no Donna. He inhaled through his nose, hoping to catch her scent. The mountain smelled like mud, and the air tasted like earth on his tongue, like the beets his mom used to make him eat. Donna's precious scent was so faint, as was that wolf's—a combination of raw meat and whatever the wolf's glands excreted.

That Eric could see, smell and hear the things he did still astonished him. He'd never considered his senses dull or given them much thought at all. But now that fear was fueling them into hypersensitivity, his previous lack had never been so clear. Red's disappointment in him made more sense. Eric had been missing out on half the world.

But for all his sensitivity, sight and smell gave little help. Had he chosen the wrong tunnel? He'd been in such a panic when Donna was kidnapped that he'd charged down the first passageway. The wolf could've taken her down one of the other two, but his friends had to be searching those tunnels themselves, and he had no time to waste backtracking his steps.

He treaded lightly in his shoes, not wanting the echo of their hard heels to block relevant sounds. Donna's voice had long vanished, replaced by the clomping of boots behind him. Was it another wolf? One of his friends? He turned around and shone his lit hand at the mountain wall, but the tunnel curved, making it impossible for him to see who was approaching.

His nose sucked in air, but no scents penetrated the mountain's muddy aroma. His follower's boot-steps were vibrating into his legs, and Eric grasped the hilt his sword. If it _were_ a wolf, Eric wouldn't be able to outrun him. Of course, Eric wouldn't be able to beat him either. Sword-fighting with his left hand was an unrealizable task, but at least he'd go out swinging.

He braced himself mentally for the fight, focusing on the muscles of his body, putting faith in his new reflexes...

Hyde's voice bounced off the rocky walls. "Forman!"

"Yeah!" Eric shouted back, and Hyde and Jackie came around the tunnel's curve. They were holding hands and had lit candles in their other ones. "Hey, great." Eric beamed his lit hand in Hyde's shades-less face. "We've gotta—"

Hyde flinched at the light. "You're a moron, you know that?" he said, and Jackie nodded her agreement.

"Thanks," Eric said, and he began to walk forward again, "but can you save the insults for later? We have to find Donna."

Hyde and Jackie rushed ahead and passed him. Jackie's breath pushed out of her, and she was sweating. Eric could finally smell her effort. Carrying all that extra weight didn't do her any favors.

He tried to match their speed, but Hyde stretched out his arm and blocked Eric's path. "Keep your ass behind us," Hyde said. "Kelso gave us some Wolfsbane. You got nothin'."

"He did?" Eric ignored Hyde's order and walked by his shoulder. "Let me have one."

"No. You ran off before it was handed out. Your loss."

"What? You're pissed because I left? Man, what would you have done if it were Jackie? Stand around while people are blabbing? Or try to get to her as fast as you could?"

Hyde said nothing, but he gave Jackie his candle to hold. Then he reached inside his jeans pocket and pulled out a cloth-wrapped Wolfsbane pellet. "Here."

Eric put the Wolfsbane into his own pocket. "Thank you."

They walked on, and Hyde left his candle on the tunnel floor, which Jackie silently but clearly objected to. Hyde explained he didn't want his fighting arm to be encumbered, that Jackie could light one of their other candles if necessary. Hyde's argument made sense. Eric's own hand and forearm provided plenty of light. The tunnel might not have been day-bright to their eyes, but Hyde and Jackie definitely saw well enough not to crash into him.

Shortly afterward, they reached another fork in the mountain: two tunnels, either one of which the wolf could've dragged Donna into. "Which way, man?" Hyde said. "'Cause we're not splitting up."

Eric sniffed the air, but Donna and the wolf's scents were gone. No visual cues, either. That strange crackling, however—the one they'd heard past the dragon's skeleton—seemed to echo from the left passage. He gestured his lit hand toward it, and the three of them moved forward.

The crackling grew loud, impossibly loud, as they went along. And its static became melodic, like music.

"What the hell _is_ that?" Hyde shouted.

Eric put the flat of his normal hand on the damp tunnel wall, and the remnants of white noise fell away, leaving only a slow, aching tune.

_"But you say it's time we moved in together,_ " a mournful female voice sang, " _and raised a family of our own._ "

"Forman, are you singing?" Hyde said and quickened his and Jackie's pace. But he answered his own question as the song continued. "Shit. We've got company... somewhere."

The mournful voice cut deep into Eric's mind. "My wife's got company _now,_ " he said, and his heart pumped faster with the song's every note. He broke into a sprint. "Go!"

* * *

Donna and Kelso must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. Instead of ending back at the dragon skeleton, they'd gone down a tunnel that tapered into a bone-crushing slit. The smell of wet earth choked them, too, and it took some maneuvering to scrabble back into the wider mountain. Their candles went out in the process, and Donna's patience went with it. She shoved Kelso more than she should have and yelled at him to relight their candles because they needed to know where to go.

Their relit candles didn't help, though. Donna had no bearings whatsoever, just four paths to choose from. One passage led straight to the body-mashing tunnel. Another was cut low into the rocky wall. She and Kelso would have to crawl through it, and no thanks. Fortunately, the other two seemed relatively benign. One of them had to lead back to the dragon skeleton—and to Eric—but she didn't know which to pick. It was a coin toss.

She touched the craggy mouth of the first viable passage, and it sparked to life with sound, those odd crackles they'd heard before the wolf took her. She withdrew her hand as if it had been slapped, but maybe that tunnel was the way back.

"This one," she said, and Kelso didn't argue.

The crackles followed them like before. They became louder and louder until Kelso covered his ears and almost set his hair on fire with the candle. Donna, however, made out a tuneful, female voice in all that static. She raised her engagement ring to her eyes, but the pearl wasn't singing.

The voice had to be coming from the mountain. She pressed her palm to the tunnel's cold, wet rock, and a familiar melody broke free from the white noise.

" _My friends from college, they're all married now,_ " the female voice sang, and Donna mouthed along with it. She knew those lyrics. " _They have their houses and their lawns. The have their silent noons..._ "

"Is that's Carly Simon?" she said.

Kelso shrugged. "I dunno, but whoever it is, she's freakin' loud! Hey, lady," he shouted into the tunnel, "SHUT UP!"

"No, that's definitely Carly Simon..."

Kelso had stopped moving, "Shut up, shut up, shut up," and Donna grabbed him by his jacket.

"I know it's loud," she said, "but we won't find the others by standing here." Then she laughed a little. "The Nine Kingdoms are so weird. It's got Styx-singing rings, Zeppelin-singing mushrooms, and now Carly-Simon-singing mountains. You don't think it's Dwarves singing that, do you?"

"I hope not." Kelso's frown was obvious even in the dark. Fez demoting him from Captain to First Lieutenant had hit him hard.

She patted him on the shoulder, even though she could've pummeled him for choosing _now_ to be upset. They were in danger, and she needed him to stay sharp. "What's wrong, Kelso?"

"Me."

"Why?"

"We're probably gonna wander forever in this mountain 'cause of me. I really screwed up—no, I _am_ a screw-up."

"No, you're not. You're just..." She sighed. Her tolerance for his self- pity was minimal, eroded by the need to find her husband. "You're you."

"Donna, in Point Place, I could canoe down a hillside—or put firecrackers under my brothers' beds—and nobody would get hurt. But here?" He gestured wildly with the candle, and the flame bent hazardously over the wick. "My actions have real consequences!"

"Like putting out that candle?" She grasped his wrist before his candle's flame extinguished. "Your actions had consequences back home, too."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"How about your kid? We all took bets when you'd get a girl pregnant..." Donna grinned despite Carly Simon's loud, mournful voice. "I won."

"But that turned out to be a good consequence," he said.

"Okay, how about losing Jackie to Hyde?"

"That one sucked, but she's happy with him, so no one got hurt."

"You got hurt by it."

Kelso didn't answer. He let the song take over their ears completely, and then, "Donna?"

"What, Kelso?"

"I'm really sad." His cheeks glistened wetly in the light of his candle. He was crying.

Donna rolled her eyes in the dark. For someone who'd fought Trolls and whatever else he encountered as Fez's guard captain, he could be such a damn baby.

"Kelso, it's just the music. I think it's magic or something."

"Most things here are," Kelso said and sniffled. "Why aren't you sad?"

"I'm too angry to be sad," she said. "I wanna find Eric and get out of this mountain. He's got that freakin' flare-bug bite that's gonna kill him if we can't do something. Two of my best friends are cursed and will probably die if we can't do something..." she waved her candle in front of her, streaking the air with orange, "and I'm sick of not being able to do anything!"

Kelso put a comforting hand on her back and began to rub. "You wanna do it with me? _It_ -it? That's doin' something."

She elbowed him away. "Just keep moving."

* * *

Steven hadn't let go of Jackie's hand since he gave Eric the Wolfsbane pellet. But the strength and warmth of his touch couldn't replenish her patience. Being mute was like having an itch she couldn't scratch. She hated being in this mountain. It was cold and wet and dark, and she kept shivering despite wearing Steven's corduroy jacket. Worse, their curse had no easy way to break. Why would someone want to hurt them? They were Wisconsin's hottest couple, to be celebrated and revered—not slowly destroyed from the inside out.

And Donna. She could've been ripped to shreds by now. Those God-forsaken wolves were more than vicious. They were evil, just like the music blasting into Jackie's ears. Carly Simon seemed to be singing inside her mind, and the lyrics pushed blood from her heart: " _Their children hate them for the things they're not._ "

"Stop it!" Jackie shouted.

" _They hate themselves for what they are—_ "

"STOP IT."

" _And yet they drink. They laugh. Close the wound—_ "

"I don't want to hear that stupid song anymore!" she yelled into the mountain, but no one could hear her. Carly Simon had sung the song twice-through already.

" _—hide the scar._ "

A cold, empty feeling set deep into Jackie's chest, as if her heart had disintegrated into a pile of frost. The dank tunnel air must have rushed in to take its place, whistling between her ribs.

Steven squeezed her hand tightly, but she was going to lose him. The curse would steal him from her, and she wouldn't get him back. Not this time.

"You all right?" he said. His arm slid around her back and hugged her into his side.

Their shared body heat dampened her shivers, and his fingers dug softly into her hip. His embrace soothed her, but his intuition soothed her more. She used to test him, to see if he could figure out what she was feeling without being informed. He failed repeatedly until he learned her cues. Now that she had no voice, he was putting that training to good use.

"Try singing crappy ABBA to yourself," he said.

"ABBA is not 'crappy—'" she said silently.

And, as if he'd already guessed her thoughts, he answered, "Yeah, yeah. 'Dancing Queen' is a musical masterpiece."

She couldn't help but giggle, and the cold, jagged hole in her chest shrank.

* * *

The Eternal Fame candle blazed in the lantern Fez held, but he was tired and he was hungry. He'd wandered the tunnel forever, it seemed, without finding Donna. Time had come a candy break, to revitalize his energy.

He put the lantern on the tunnel floor and leaned against the damp, crackling wall. Before they'd left the Naked Emperor's palace, he transferred some of his emergency candy into his knapsack. But as he took out a fistful of gumdrops and chocolate truffles, the wall began to sing a sad, depressing song.

_Ai..._ Why did his mind always play tricks on him whenever he was hungry or horny? His needs had made him lose something so precious. Seeing Rhonda again at Eric and Donna's wedding was nice. She'd looked lovely in that purple dress, but she was beautiful no matter what she wore.

The Eternal Flame candle at his feet blazed even brighter, and the light stung his eyes. He squinted, but that didn't help his ears. That depressing song had pierced his hearing and his heart.

Losing Rhonda had hurt him, more than he ever let his friends know. She'd dumped him for moving too fast, for making their relationship about sex instead of love... and he really did love her. Just like she'd loved him, but his needs—

He tossed his candy onto the tunnel floor. "Damn my needs!" The chocolate had melted somewhat in his hands, and now the truffles lay helplessly next to the gumdrops. "Oh, I'm sorry." He knelt down and ate the candy off the floor. "I did not mean it."

He stuffed gumdrops and chocolates into his mouth, the only comfort available as that too-sad song plagued him.

"Damn Casey Kelso and his awful advice," he said with a mouthful of candy. "And damn me for not listening to Eric. He is a noble man, and I was a fool. Maybe I still am. My head barely deserves its crown, and my heart does not deserve _you,_ Mashed Potato."

No sooner did he speak than the Eternal Flame candle went out, extinguished by his quenching words. His Mashed Potato—Rhonda—had plunged him into darkness once again.

* * *

Hyde's ability to block that lame song had corroded as it began its fourth round. Though the music gave him a sense of time, it also worsened his already-contemptuous opinion on magic. Had the Rolling Stones been reverberating off the tunnel walls, maybe his opinion would've changed. But having Carly Simon sing, " _You say we can keep our love alive,_ " straight into his skull made him want to hurt someone.

He'd felt the same way after Chicago, during those six months without Jackie. Their third and longest breakup had thrust so much anger into his skin that he kept dreaming about shedding it. The only thing he could do was shut her out, pretend like she didn't exist. To do anything else would've made him lose control, to lose _himself_ because he'd already lost so much to her.

His fingers readjusted themselves on Jackie's palm. They'd grown sweaty from his tight grip, but he wouldn't let go, not in this mountain or anywhere. The soppy lyrics of that song had seeped past his defenses, like Jackie's tears whenever she cried. His eyes squeezed shut because, _man,_ did that song feel like Jackie.

She was slowing down, and he encouraged her to keep jogging with a tug forward. Running wasn't possible for her anymore, and he would've carried her had she let him. They needed freakin' speed, man. The thought of Donna being ripped up like those acrobats drove his pulse faster than he was comfortable.

Forman's heartbeat must have been worse, though. He'd sprinted ahead, but Jackie had her candle, and as long as Forman's hand lit up the tunnel, Hyde refused to gripe. Had Jackie been the one stolen by that wolf, nothing could have slowed him down.

Hyde's throat soon grew thick with feelings he refused to express. He'd never wanted this, to have his life wrapped up in another person, but he wouldn't go back to the way things without Jackie had been like living in the frozen dark—a cold more frigid than the inside of this mountain—but his private wasteland hadn't bothered him until he'd seen the sun and felt its warmth...

_Fuck,_ his thoughts were being contorted into Forman-like shapes by that song. He needed to do something, so he belted out the least sentimental lyrics he could think of: "I've got big balls! I've got big balls! They're such big balls. And they're dirty, big balls!"

His voice sounded like crap, like a raspy carnival barker rather than Bon Scott, and Jackie never let him play AC/DC when she was around, but she pressed her forehead against his arm as if she were laughing.

For a moment, he believed he'd actually _heard_ her laughing. But that was as unlikely as him growing a porn mustache, so he continued his AC/DC defense, forcing the depressing, mushy thoughts from his head. Then, finally, he and Jackie closed in on Forman. The light from his hand grew brighter until they were right behind him.

"Forman?" Hyde tapped his shoulder.

Forman turned around, shouting, "We're never gonna find her, man!" His eyes were rimmed with tears. The song had to be screwing with his head, too.

"Yeah, we will," Hyde said, but he wasn't sure they would—or if they'd find their way out of this mountain. He pushed Forman forward as Carly Simon started her fifth round. Hyde countered with, "And my balls are always bouncing! My ballroom, always full," while he tried to pull Jackie along.

She was staggering back. He tugged on her more forcefully, but her hand slipped from him. He turned around, expecting to see her, but found only darkness. Her candle must have dropped to the wet floor and gone out.

"Jackie, clap," he said but got no response. "Shit—Forman!" He raced a few feet ahead, grabbed Forman's arm, and yanked him backward.

Forman's light revealed Jackie crouched on the ground. Her face was buried in her hands, and her shoulders were shuddering up and down.

" _I'll never learn to be just me first, by myself..._ "Carly Simon sang, but Jackie might as well have sung it. The song had to be coming from her. Hyde felt it.

"Hey," he said and knelt down. He cupped her arms gently. They were clothed in his corduroy jacket, but the cold of her body still reached him. "Grasshopper, what's going on?

She was crying with no sound. It was the first real crack since she'd lost her voice, but she didn't respond to him, and Forman shouted, "We don't have time for this!"

Hyde glowered at him, "Would you chill out and give me a second?" then refocused on Jackie. "He's right, doll. We gotta go." He stroked the back of her hair, and she finally looked up at him. Her wet eyes shone in Forman's light. They were wide and terrified. "I'm not going anywhere, okay?" he said and mustered a smile.

She nodded. Then, as if propelled by desperation, she flung her arms around his neck and began to kiss him. The power of her lips was startling, but he just as desperately wanted to give in. He started to...

"Hyde!" Forman gripped Hyde's wounded shoulder, and Hyde twisted out of Jackie's kiss.

"Right." Hyde took Jackie's hand, "Sorry," and pulled her along.

* * *

Donna and Kelso were shivering and in the dark. Kelso had accidentally dropped his candle. A layer of water coated the tunnel floor, so his flame went out. The wick had gotten wet, and she'd tried to relight it with hers, but she ended up extinguishing her own flame, too.

Kelso put their useless candles in his pack while she pulled two fresh ones from her knapsack. Then Kelso did his best to kindle them with Hyde's lighter.

"Damn," he said. "The lighter went out." He kept pressing the igniter, but the spark didn't catch.

"Let me try." Donna took the lighter, but it seemed to be out of fuel. "This is getting so much worse."

She and Kelso were blind in the dark, an experience she'd had more than enough of. Wandering those forests at night had filled her quota, but neither she nor Kelso had a choice. She searched for his hand. His fingers found hers first and grasped her palm.

"We better stay in physical contact," she said, and they moved forward together.

"To the DJ of this mountain," Kelso shouted, "you need to change songs already!"

Carly Simon had sung the same lyrics seven times and refused to stop. Donna liked songs exploring female independence, but no tears would be shed if she never heard this one again.

"I hate this mountain," Kelso said. "The first time we were here, all those mirror-obsessed Dwarves tried to kill me. Then I broke my back, and that crazy Huntsman tried to kill _you,_ and now we're cold and tired and lost."

Donna gave his hand a squeeze. She'd been too hard on him earlier. That song was definitely magic, and it had gotten inside her head. "Yeah, I'm not a big fan of this mountain either," she said.

"Hey, Donna?"

"Yes, Kelso?"

"If it becomes obvious we're not gonna make it out of here, will you at least make out with me?"

"No." She gave his hand a tighter squeeze, meant to hurt. "And we _are_ getting out of here."

"Oh, come on! Eric gets to French you all the time."

"He's my husband, dink."

" _Pfft!_ So? He should learn how to share!"

In spite of herself, Donna laughed. Kelso always had a way of brightening things, no matter what situation they were in, and she loved him for it— _God,_ she loved Kelso? This mountain really was enchanted.

"So, Donna?" Kelso said, as if he actually had a shot.

"Shut up." she said and shoved him forward affectionately.

He let out a little "Oof!" then went silent. She reached for his hand again but found only empty space.

"Kelso?" She stepped forward and groped for him blindly. "Kelso, you can talk now."

Silence.

"Kelso?" she shouted. Still nothing, so she raced ahead, and her left foot hit air, not ground. Her whole body lurched forward.

The ground beneath her had vanished.


	28. The Bending of Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. "Sometimes I Don't Know What to Feel" copyright 1973 Bearsville Records Inc.

CHAPTER 28  
 **THE BENDING OF LIGHT**  


Hyde, Jackie, and Forman had spent seventeen rounds of that Carly Simon song searching in the mountain. Seventeen rounds of that abrasive song, and the wolf could have taken Donna anywhere—or worse, killed her. Hyde's fists were clenched, and his chest was tight, but if any situation called for Zen, this was it.  
 _  
_Jackie clung to his arm and clutched his balled-up hand, hugging both to her body as they bolted down the tunnel. It was slowing their pace, but he wasn't going to make her stop. Far better they lose some speed than be immobilized by her fear. Finally, though, the damn song faded back into crackling. They must have gotten away from whatever magic had caused it. Either that, or the magic was done with Jackie's subconscious.

"Hyde..." Forman turned around and started walking backward. His lit hand no longer illuminated the tunnel ahead but behind them. "Hyde, if that wolf hurt Donna, if he—I'm going to kill him." His normal hand grasped the hilt of his rapier, and Hyde trusted Forman _would_ try to kill that wolf. He'd fail, but he'd try. "And if he gets me first," Forman said, "I want you to—whoa!"

Both his arms shot out and made a wide arc as his body tilted back. Hyde lunged forward and grasped Forman's lit hand, only to slip off it like wet soap. He grabbed hold of Forman's lit wrist more aggressively, and Hyde's muscles froze at the contact. Forman's skin had jolted him, as if it coursed with electricity, and by the time Hyde recovered, Forman was gone.

Jackie stepped forward, but Hyde blocked her. "Don't move," he said and shoved the hem of his shirt into her fingers. "Hold onto this, but don't move."

He crouched and patted the ground in front of him, but there was no ground to pat. Just the smooth, wet edge where it had been cut or worn away by water—or by magic. Forman had plummeted into the depths of the mountain, but his loss was not one Hyde could handle, not now.

Instead, he peered down into the dark, into what had to be a gaping hole. The light of Forman's arm beamed up at him, diffuse, like he'd fallen a great distance. "Forman," Hyde shouted, having little hope, "you okay?"

"Yeah!" Forman said back. His voice was faint but enough. "You have to get down here!"

Hyde forced his lips not to smile. Relief was an indulgence here. "You break anything?"

"No! Get down here!"

Jackie's grip on Hyde's shirt tightened. She must have heard Forman, too, and she couldn't have liked what he had to say.

Hyde reached behind himself and grasped her wrist before standing up. "There's no where else to go, doll."

She fought him as he moved to her back. He wrapped his arms around her thicker waist—grateful he had more to hold onto right now—and kept her body pressed to his chest. Her knapsack had little in it, so it didn't get in the way, and he chucked her candle. Then he maneuvered them 180-degrees and dropped them into the gaping hole.

His stomach lurched as they fell, down... down... and Jackie must have screamed silently. Cold air rushed past them, chilled them, and he did his best to keep his back facing the ground to absorb the impact of the fall. But the impact never came, not the way he expected. They landed on something soft—the way he imagined landing on a giant bubble would feel—and it collapsed slowly under their weight until they were gently guided to their feet.

Hyde's eyes had shut during the fall, but now they were wide open. His arms released Jackie, an action he'd done mindlessly. The sight before him had stolen all coherent thought, but he managed to sputter, "Holy hell," as he stumbled forward.

They'd fallen into some kind of crystal cavern. The walls were shining with a warm, inner light. It had to be warm because he no longer felt cold.

Dangling in the middle of the cavern, on glittering gossamer threads, were stones. These blazed with light at odd, uncoordinated intervals, an inner fire that faded back into dull rock. They reminded Hyde of something his mind couldn't quite touch, but an urgent memory scrabbled over the back of skull.

Forman had fallen down here, hadn't he? But music echoed here, too, haunting and melodic, and it narrowed Hyde's focus even more. This song resembled nothing like the first one. No, this music was like the rhythm of his own breathing.

"Sometimes I don't know what to feel," he said, and one of the stones blazed bright red, drawing him straight to it. The words were both his and the singer's. Their voices had merged into an inseparable whole. "Everything I thought I knew starts to look so unreal."

He walked closer to the stone. It had gone dark, but it rekindled with violet light as both he and the singer confessed, "There's a ringing in my head that keeps me awake at night."

The light drained from the stone afterward.

"Sometimes I don't know what's right," Hyde said, smiling unhappily. He seemed so far away from the stone dangling on that thread. Pale green light burst inside it now, and he needed to be there.

His legs felt stiff and heavy, but he forced them forward. "I won't need help from nobody else," he said, "and I can make it alone."

The stone was glowing steadily with swirling blues and silver. He was close—but not close enough.

"And everything will be cool," he told himself. "I got to keep on keepin' on." There was nothing else he could do.

The stone swung a bit on its thread as he approached, at the height of his collarbone. Finally, he was only a few inches away. He perched the stone on the tips of his fingers, and the weight of it grew as the color shifted from blue to violet.

"Hyde," a different voice cut through the music, one not belonging to him or the singer, "don't look inside!"

"I'm not gonna look," Hyde said. "Everything's cool..."

But he put his eye to the stone, and it vanished along with the luminous crystal walls. All that remained of the cavern was the music. The rest had been replaced by his old house in Point Place. Its clay lamp with the cracked base. Bud's ratty couch, bleeding with exposed stuffing. The choking stench of cigarette smoke and too much spilled booze...

No, _Hyde_ was the one who'd vanished, straight into his childhood living room.

" _Sometimes I don't know what to do,_ " the singer continued, but Hyde didn't join him this time. He picked through the unwashed clothes on the floor, passed by the pantyhose draped over the radiator. Everything seemed bigger than he remembered, or was he smaller? He needed to take a piss, had held it in for so damn long. The bathroom lay beyond the couch, and he hustled over there only to trip over something lumpy.

He caught himself on the couch. A half-naked, greasy fat guy was curled up on the floor, asleep and tangled up in Christmas lights.

"Crap," Hyde said aloud. "'Uncle' _Strange-Man._ "It was Christmas, all right.

" _Someone said the world's going to end, and I think it's true,_ " the singer sang, and Hyde glanced behind him. The record player in the corner was off, but it didn't concern him. The pressure on his bladder had gone super-nova.

He hightailed it to the bathroom, had no time to shut the door _and_ flip up the toilet seat. He made his choice and pissed with the door open, feeling better than he had in the last couple of hours. Afterward, he washed his hands in the sink. The mirror above it was cracked in a circular pattern, just like he remembered.

His shattered reflection stared back at him with two dozen eyes, but his sideburns were growing in nicely... _hell._ He was fourteen-years-old. It was Christmas, 1963, and he knew what was coming next.

"Steven!"

Hyde cringed. _Man,_ he'd have to learn to control that reflex, but on his mother's lips his first name sickened him, like the smell of rotting meat... like _he_ was something rotten to her.

"Hey, Edna," he said without turning around.

Her mouth, a dirty dozen of 'em, reflected brokenly in the mirror. "What the hell are you doing home?"

"Gee, I don't know, Ma..." he glanced up at the bathroom ceiling; it was spotted black with mold, "I live here?"

The weight of Edna's hands landed on his shoulders. He expected the left one to hurt. It didn't. "Steven," she said, "look at me when I—"

He grasped Edna's wrists. Her hands were too close to his neck, and he thrust them off. He had no way to escape, though. She was flush behind him, and the smell of her boozed-soaked breath clogged his nose. He turned around and backed off against the sink. Red lingerie barely covered her body, revealing more parts than he ever wanted to see, but it was nothing new.

"You got your bell jingled tonight, huh?" he said, and his voice sounded much higher, so much younger than he was used to. "Ho, ho, ho."

Edna struck him across the face, and the force of the blow made his left eye tear. His cheekbone throbbed, would probably bruise. Nothing new, either, but she usually stopped there since discovering one of his secrets—that he'd learned how to distance himself from physical pain.

"You're an ungrateful shit, you know that?" She grabbed his arm and yanked him out of the bathroom. "I work my ass off all year long for you, and all I ask for is one night—just _one—_ to myself, and you can't even give me that?"

Her voice was slurry, but he'd long been able to decipher her speech. She tottered on her feet by the sleeping "Uncle" Strange-Man. Her balance was off. Alcohol had deprived her of that and more, like any kindness she might've felt toward her son... _Yeah,_ he remembered her request for alone-time, but most nights she didn't ask. She just took it.

"It's Christmas," Hyde said with a shrug. Also, he'd come back home to swipe some of her stash. He'd forgotten to take it for his second annual Christmas circle.

"So it is," Edna said and dragged him to the far end of the couch.

He wasn't big enough to fight her off yet, not without fighting dirty. Hurting her physically, even in defense, disgusted him; so he relaxed until she released his arm. He wasn't above inflicting emotional pain, however—but only in retaliation. He never attacked first.

But now, as she she lifted one of the couch's cushions, he braced himself for another strike. Not on his body. Deeper.

She pulled out a record, vulnerable without its protective sleeve or album cover. Its black vinyl didn't appear scratched, but she kept it out reach, holding it just close enough for him to read its label: Todd Rundgren's _A Wizard, A True Star._

He looked at the record player again. It was still off, but the album seemed to be playing on it. The music hadn't stopped, but how was that possible? The record was firmly in his mother's hands.

"Your uncle brought this over for you," Edna said. She meant his real uncle, his favorite uncle. _Chet,_ not the guy passed out on the floor. Chet had probably swiped it from somewhere, but who the hell cared? It was the only present Hyde was gonna get this Christmas from family.

A smile flickered on his lips, and Edna nodded in understanding. She'd spotted his joy before he could mask it with indifference. She raised the record high above her head then smashed it down on her knee. Two jagged pieces of black vinyl fell to the floor.

"Merry Christmas, baby," she said. Her clumsy, drunken fingers stroked his cheek, and he shrank from her touch.

His stare remained on the broken record as she blundered away. Her bedroom door slammed shut, dislodging anger from the depths of his body. He barreled toward the record player. Todd Rundgren's song still played from it, reaping the thoughts from Hyde's head: " _I thought there was some love in this world..._ _but I guess I was wrong._ " Hyde picked up the record player and hauled it halfway across the living room. The plug yanked free in the process, but Todd Rundgren continued voicing Hyde's thoughts: " _Sometimes I just feel so alone._ "

Hyde hurled the record player against Edna's bedroom door. The tone arm snapped, and the dust cover broke off, and it all crashed to the ground.

"Steven!" someone shouted.

"Shut up!" he shouted back.

"Hyde!"

He blinked. Colors were swirling in front his eyes, bright and dizzying, as if he were on acid.

"Oh, Hyde, please come back!"

He turned around. He was back in the crystal cavern, and Fez was in front of him.

_What the hell did I just go through?_ Hyde wanted to say, but no sound came out of his mouth. Only silence.

"They are heartstones," Fez said, indicating the dangling, iridescent stones behind him. "Very old magic. They were used to lure people."

Hyde nodded and scratched the back of his neck. That must've been why they were hearing the Carly Simon song before. The stones had tapped into someone else. He should've known who, felt like he knew, but he couldn't place it. His mind was still dazed.

"Fez?" His voice had returned, and he fully registered that Fez was indeed in front of him, not lost in the cave somewhere. "Hey, man, you're here!" Hyde was smiling, the first happy smile in a long while. "You cool, man?"

"Yes..."

"Are..." Hyde closed his eyes and took a breath. He was worried about someone else, but he couldn't connect to whom. Then, after a few more breaths, he got it. "Donna! Did you find Donna?"

Fez pointed to a corner of the cavern where Donna was making out with Forman. _Forman._ Right.

"Huh. Okay, then." Hyde's smile dissolved into relief. Looked like "the gang," as Forman called it, was back together. And Donna, by some stroke of luck, hadn't been chomped by that wolf. "So we all fell down the rabbit hole... How come we didn't get splattered?"

"It is the magic of the cavern," Fez said. "Whoever created this place wanted its meals to be intact."

"'Meals'?" The word cleared some more of Hyde's haziness. "You mean something down here wants to eat us?"

"I'm not sure..." Fez sounded far away, and his eyes were no longer looking at Hyde but past him. They'd grown glassy, too. "This _is_ very old magic..." Fez said, and a dreamy grin spread on his face. "Ooh, shiny!"

He stepped toward the heartstones, but Hyde clutched Fez's shoulders and turned him in the opposite direction. "Keep away from the rocks, man."

Fez struggled to turn back around. "But they are so pretty. I hear my destiny in them, and it is full of candy!"

Hyde gritted his teeth. _Destiny._ All he'd seen was his past.

Fez continued to fight his way back to the heartstones, but Hyde kept one arm around Fez's waist. He opened Fez's knapsack and grabbed a fistful of gumdrops. Then he waved it in front of Fez's face.

"Ooh, candy!" Fez snatched the gumdrops.

The heartstones no longer seemed to draw him, so Hyde walked Fez over to Donna and Forman. They were still going at it, sitting on a pair of shining, flat-topped stalagmites and Frenching. It was like they didn't care they were stuck in some kind of magical spiderweb, waiting to be eaten. He intended to snap them out of it when laughter burst from another corner of the cavern.

Hyde turned toward the sound and found Kelso— _Kelso._ He was here, too, and laughing at a short, pudgy, redhead Hyde didn't recognize. She was stumbling around, groping at the cavern's luminous walls. Who the hell was she, and why did she have on Hyde's corduroy jacket?

"I think she's drunk!" Kelso said and giggled like an idiot..

"Jackie?" Hyde said. He'd forgotten about her, like she'd been blotted from his mind, but that redhead had to be his chick.

She turned in the direction of his voice, and he rushed over to her. He grasped her shoulders, and her hands patted his body, starting from his stomach and moving up to his face. Her fingers scratched lightly at his sideburns. Her thumbs smoothed over his lips and up the bridge of his nose.

"Oh, she's drunk, all right!" Kelso shouted. "And she wants to get it on!"

"Kelso, would you shut up?" Hyde shouted back. He was cupping Jackie's face now and looking into her eyes. They didn't focus on him, didn't seem to focus on anything.

She touched Hyde's brow, not with the hesitant, searching touch of before, but tenderly, and Kelso erupted into more laughter. "G—give her some tongue! She likes—she likes that."

"This isn't funny, man! I think she's blind."

Jackie nodded sadly.

"Fuck," he whispered and pulled her into his arms. He repeated his statement far more loudly, "Fuck! FUCK!" but her hair muffled him. The orange, mussed-up tangle hid his face. And had she been able to see herself, she would've demanded a brush, mountain or no mountain.

She hugged his waist tightly, and he said, "Don't worry about me, all right?" Then he grabbed her left hand.

She jerked herself away and slipped from his grasp. His fingers had no chance to clamp down on her ring, and she staggered backward.

"Jackie—"

The space between two stalagmites ensnared her boot. She fell to the ground, and he leapt forward, but she waved him off.

"Jackie, _come on,_ " he said. She'd landed on her ass, and the sight of her being so helpless punctured his chest. His control started to bleed out. "I'm not gonna take the ring," he said, voice thick with emotion, "not until we're outta this magical Venus Fly trap... I _promise,_ okay?"

That last bit had done the trick. She relaxed into his arms, and he lifted her up. If she trusted anything about him, it seemed, she trusted his promises. He'd broken only one and never again.

He checked her over, making sure she hadn't gotten cut in the fall, but another bout of laughter from Kelso drew his attention.

"She sure is blind, man!" Kelso said. "She's with _you!_ She'd never have chosen a frizzed-out freak like you over me with a pair of working eyes." He was leaning against the shining, crystal wall, and his laughs bounced from his throat. Something was freakin' wrong with him, and Hyde aimed to find out what.

He clasped hands with Jackie—their bodies would have to be super-glued together from now on—and strode over to Kelso with her. "I'm gonna kick your ass so hard," Hyde said, raising his fist, "that it'll shoot out the top of your skull."

"Fine with me. I can't feel anything anyway!" Kelso poked his own eye. "See? Nothing." He did it again, and Hyde spotted the problem—the blue dust covering Kelso's neck and chin. A Wolfsbane pellet must have exploded against him. The moron must have kept it in his jacket's inner pocket.

Hyde removed his own jacket from Jackie and put it on himself, all the while narrating for her exactly what he was doing and why. He pulled the corduroy sleeves over his hands, protecting his skin, then opened Kelso's jacket. His white shirt was stained blue.

"Shit," Hyde said. "Fez, help me out!"

Fez hurried over from Donna and Eric's make-out session, and he slapped his forehead upon seeing Kelso's state. "Ai..."

Hyde spun Kelso around and pressed his laughing body against the cavern wall. Fez found the leather gloves in Kelso's pack and wore them. Then he tore off Kelso's shirt and wiped the Wolfsbane from Kelso's skin. The shirt was a lost cause, but the outside of Kelso's jacket seemed relatively clean. Hyde and Fez turned it inside-out and put it back on him.

Kelso's laughter hadn't stopped, but it decreased. Good enough. At least he wouldn't become paralyzed.

Hyde peered across the cavern at Forman and Donna. They were still pawing at each other, and he went to them with Jackie clinging to his waist. "Hey," he said, but neither Forman nor Donna reacted, so he smacked the back of their heads.

They separated and glanced up. "Oh, hey, Hyde," Forman said. "When did you get here?

"Oh, my God—" Donna pressed a palm to her cheek, "I fell, and then I saw Eric, and I couldn't help myself."

"It is old magic," Fez began to explain, gesturing to the dangling heartstones.

"Save it," Hyde said and scanned the crystal walls for an opening. "We gotta get out of this mountain and figure out who the fuck cursed us. Jackie's blind."

"What?" Donna said. She stood up and waved her hand in front of Jackie's face

Jackie swatted at her. She must have felt the air moving over her skin.

"Yeah." Hyde left a soft kiss on Jackie's temple. "It's getting worse."

"Oh, much worse," a deep, gravelly voice said behind him, "for _all_ of you."

They were surrounded by Dwarves, over a dozen of them. Their skin was dark and gleamed in cavern like black glass. Their craggy hands carried deadly-looking daggers.

Hyde, Fez, and Donna reached for their rapiers, and the Dwarves smiled menacingly. "Much, _much_ worse for you," one of them said, "and all the better for us."


	29. Inescapable Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 29  
 **INESCAPABLE DARKNESS**  


Jackie fought blindly as craggy hands ripped her away from Steven. They'd removed the dagger strapped to her thigh and the knapsack on her back. The same must have happened to Steven and Michael and all of them, but she couldn't see their attackers. The curse had deprived her of sight and shoved her into darkness, just as those too-rough hands shoved her forward.

"Hey, leave her the hell alone!" Steven shouted, and she reached for him, but her captor pushed her arms back down. A shuffling sound, like boots on the rocky cave floor, followed

"Hyde, don't!" Donna said, and Jackie fought in vain to turn around. Her captor's grip was too strong, but she wouldn't have been able to see anything anyway. "Hyde!"

Steven cried out as if he'd been hurt. _How badly, how badly?_ Jackie thought until Michael answered through idiotic giggles, "Hyde's bleeding! You Dwarves made Hyde bleed! Dopey never did that to anyone!"

"We are not _Dwarves,_ " a scratchy voice spat. "We are _Duergar!_ Dwarves are soft, fragile things. We are not soft. We are death."

"Kelso!" Fez shouted, but Michael's laughter grew stronger.

"Nah-nah!" Michael sang. "Can't feel it! Stab me all ya like."

"Kelso, shut up!" Eric said, and lethal visions cut into Jackie's mind, like a dagger plunging into Michael's stomach repeatedly.

"Michael," she called silently. He had to be alive. His laughter hadn't stopped. That Wolfsbane powder was still affecting his head.

The Duergar pressed on Jackie's back with fingers sharp as jagged stones. They forced her from the warmth of the crystal cavern—she'd gotten a glimpse of it before going blind—and into the freezing cold. They were going deeper into the mountain, but she couldn't even hug herself to stop shivering because the Duergar wouldn't let her move her arms.

Steven hadn't had a chance to put his jacket back on her. Did the Duergar take it from him? Had they taken more? He'd gone silent after they hurt him...

"I'm fine, Jackie," Steven said as if he'd heard her thoughts. Or maybe he'd seen her face. She must have looked horrible with her tearful eyes and chattering teeth—the fear she couldn't hide. He sounded relatively close, but she she didn't feel his body near her.

"What do you want with us?" Donna said, but the Duergar didn't answer. Not with words, at least. Donna let out a yelp, like she'd been pinched. "Eric—Eric, it's okay."

Except for Michael's fading laughter, Jackie's friends fell silent as the Duergar pushed them further into the cold. Her breath was probably a white cloud, and it roared in her ears once Michael finally became quiet.

Jackie retreated into her thoughts to bolster her morale, to distract her from reality. It was easier to do without sight. _Steven,_ she began, _do you remember when we went ice skating on the lake? You'd never been on ice skates before that winter, and your legs were so wobbly. You didn't want me to help. You didn't want to take my hand, but I skated circles around you—backwards and forwards—and you admitted defeat. You finally held both my hands while I skated backward in front of you. You fell on top of me seconds later, but we got back up and kept trying—_

Her thoughts splintered as she smashed into something hard as rock. Was it one of the Duergar? Pressure on her shoulders forced her to her knees. Then brutish hands yanked her back onto her butt. Coarse material scratched her legs— _burlap_ —and a Duergar's arms closed around her middle before her stomach shot into her throat. They had to be on one of those slides that led to the mountain's depths. The first time she'd been on one, she closed her eyes. Now, as her body sped into an upside-down loop, she didn't have to close them. They were already sightless.

After another nausea-inducing loop, her descent slowed to a stop . A Duergar gripped her left wrist and pulled her to her feet; then a rattling gasp left him.

"Look at this. Look at this," he whispered. He caressed Jackie's hand, and his touch felt like glass, alternately smooth and cutting. She tried to wrench her hand away, but he withdrew first. "Magic... and _powerful_ magic. We may not be able to—"

"Who are you creatures?" another Duergar said.

"'Creatures'?" Jackie said silently. She, a creature? The very idea attacked her Burkhart pride and momentarily repressed her terror. She fluffed her hair, stood up straight, and stuck out her chin. "I am the most beautiful creature you've ever had the pleasure of setting eyes on... Well, I _was_. And I will be again!"

Steven chuckled from somewhere. "You tell 'em, Jackie."

Relief flooded her chest. He was with her. The Duergar had brought him down one of those slides, too. She patted her heart, hoping he was in a position to see it.

"We are useless to you," Fez said, and Jackie calmed further. If he was here, it meant Michael, Donna, and Eric probably, were, too.

"I don't believe you," said the scratchy-voiced Duergar. He seemed to be in command.

"Then why'd you bother asking who we are, stupid?" Michael said.

"Bring them to Hubrecht!" another Duergar said.

"Yes, Hubrecht!" a third Duergar said. "He will give us the answers we seek."

Jagged fingers shoved Jackie forward again. The frozen air whistled with wind. It stung her throat and eyes. They had to be in a tunnel, but the drafts soon stopped. They'd come to a chamber of some sort, and the Duergar moved her slightly to the right before holding her still.

Someone was being positioned next to her. Soft corduroy brushed against her arm. Then a strong hand clasped hers with gentle fingers. _Steven's._ Jackie's heart fluttered, but she resisted the urge to pull him closer. The Duergar could split them apart again.

"Get it," the lead Duergar said. "Get it. Get it."

Something flapped in front of Jackie's face, like a thick drape, and she coughed as dust filled her lungs. The last time she was in Dragon Mountain, Dwarves had consulted an old mirror named Gustav to help her and her friends. That one was slightly deaf and only understood verse. Maybe...

"Hubrecht!" said a Duergar, "we have made quite the catch. We demand you tell us who we snatched!"

A thickly-accented voice answered. "No matter what the dark one says, his true name be King Fez. He loves candy as much as beauty but secretly fears his kingly duties."

"The mirror knows me," Fez said.

" _King_ Fez?" the lead Duergar said. " _King_ Fez?" He sounded surprised. "You mean to say the Queen did not succeed in taking over his kingdom?"

_The Queen..._ He must have meant Laurie, when she was possessed by the spirit of Snow White's stepmother. But couldn't the Duergar see Fez's royal uniform? The gold brocade and insignia didn't give him away? Or perhaps the Duergar were as blind as Jackie was right now.

"News travels slowly down here, doesn't it?" Eric said.

"This is a boon indeed," the lead Duergar said, "to have one of the nine sovereigns in our grasp. Hubrecht, continue to reveal what our quarries have chosen to conceal."

"The oaf to Fez's right is a man of legend," Hubrecht said. "He broke a mirror, he hates to mention. A hundred more did he break, and much bad luck did he take. Kelso the Valiant is quite confused, for his heart has been significantly bruised."

"Why do mirrors keep calling me an oaf?" Michael said.

"Maybe because you, like, broke a thousand of them?" Donna said.

"Hey, he said a hundred!" Michael finally sounded clear-minded; the Wolfsbane must have worn off. He began to say more, but Hubrecht interrupted him.

"Just as wolves seduce girls in red, on a fateful journey Eric has been led. Remember his heart he must more than any silver, diamond, gold, or penny."

"Um... okay," Eric said.

"Found with him Donna was in the Vista Cruiser," Hubrecht continued. "Her love made him believe he was more than a loser. Hard as a diamond she pretends to be—"

"I do not," Donna said.

But Hubrecht went on. "—afraid to show her vulnerability, but show it she must to free herself from tyranny."

"What the...?" Donna sounded confused, but Jackie didn't care about all this ridiculous rhyming, not unless it could give her and Steven some answers about their curse. But she had no voice to ask.

"Jackie Burkhart and Steven Hyde," Hubrecht said, "hate transformed, love denied. Just one kiss, and then they knew. Now together, love binds them true."

The beginnings of a smile crept on Jackie's lips. At least she and Steven had gotten a good poem, but the smile never found purchase on her face. Hubrecht's next words destroyed it.

"To break their love, much was given. A curse from without, by hatred driven. Once torn asunder, love cannot be, for in them lies the Kingdoms' destiny."

_The Kingdoms' destiny?_ Jackie glanced blindly to the right, toward Steven. How could their love be tied to the Nine Kingdoms? Who here knew them to hate them? Laurie was dead...

"Great," Steven muttered. Then he took a sharp breath. "Hey, man, how do we break the curse? Before it gets any freakin' worse?"

"Yes!" she shouted silently and squeezed Steven's hand. He was so clever. He must have remembered her story about the Dwarves' old mirror.

"Look at what you fear to see," Hubrecht said, "and the curse will cease to be. Listen to what you refuse to hear, and the curse will disappear..."

Jackie tried to catch the rest of it, but the Duergar began to pull her away. "Wait!" she said without a hope of being heard—or listened to.

"Push through the dirt you must not spurn," Hubrecht said behind her. "Climb to the sun that does not burn. Over the hills your true answer lies, beneath a blue and shattered sky."

If Hubrecht said anything more, Jackie didn't know. She was too far away now and back inside the drafty tunnel.

"Take the cursed ones to the agony vent," the lead Duergar said. "The rest we'll use as planned."

Steven's corduroy jacket grazed her shoulder. He'd managed to keep a grip on her hand, and feeling him so near gave her some comfort, but the mention of "agony vent" stole it away.

* * *

Eric's lit hand had no effect on the Duergar. Before he and his friends were rounded up, he'd beamed the light into their dark, glass-like faces. They should've been like the creatures in that movie _The Mole People_ who were weakened by light. But they weren't. They hadn't even flinched.

Now, a dozen Duerger were herding him, Donna, Fez, and Kelso down a dark tunnel, in the opposite direction of Hyde and Jackie. Those two would have the pleasure of the "agony vent," apparently, but Eric couldn't let that happen. And he didn't want to find out what the Duergar had planned for the rest of them, either.

The Duergar had confiscated his rapier, but the sword would likely be useless against them anyway, especially in Eric's unadept left hand. His supplies were gone, too, but the Duergar hadn't taken everything. The Wolfsbane pellet remained in his slacks pocket, wrapped in a cloth. Throwing it at the Duergar was risky, though. If the Wolfsbane touched Eric's skin, it could paralyze him. He reacted differently to the stuff than his friends did, and who knew if the Duergar were immune or not? Plus, what was one Wolfsbane versus a dozen of these guys?

Eric could hear his father now: " _Wrong gamble, dumbass. Try again._ " He rummaged in his other pocket, the one with the pouch of seeds Laurie gave him. His fingers poked inside the opening. They snatched a few of the seeds and dropped them on the ground.

_Come on,_ Eric thought. _Do something._

Nothing, and the Duergar were pushing him away from them.

" _What you choose to nurture grows, loser,_ " Laurie had said. Her voice rang inside his head clear as a Styx piano solo, but what did she mean? He'd been trying to puzzle it out since she'd first said it. Nurture. _.. nurture..._

Seeds needed light, didn't they?

He pushed up his sleeve to get the most light he could from his arm. Then he aimed the beam at the seeds.

The ground rumbled beneath him— _something was happening_ —and the seeds cracked open. Thick, thorny vines burst from the shells. They ensnared the rocky legs of the Duergar, coiling around them and holding them in place. The Duergar sliced into the vines with their daggers, but roses bloomed where the green, fibrous skin was cut.

"Eric?" Donna said, but he had no time to answer. They were free. So were Fez and Kelso, but Hyde and Jackie weren't.

Eric barreled down the freezing tunnel and back into the mirror chamber where that old, dusty Hubrecht sat. Several passages led out from the chamber, but Eric's lit hand gave him plenty of light, and he caught sight of Hyde and Jackie down the right-most one.

Only three Duergar were shoving them along. The back of their glass-like heads gleamed in Eric's light, and he raced after them. Once he was close enough, he tossed a seed on the tunnel floor. He lit it, and the ground shook again. Those same, thorny vines shot from the seed, and they twisted around the Duergar's legs.

Hyde and Jackie's captors were immobilized, but Hyde didn't waste any time puzzling it out. "We're free," he whispered to Jackie and maneuvered her around the vines and Duergar.

Eric dashed to them to light their way, and together the three of them sped back to the mirror chamber.

"How'd you pull off _that_ trick, Forman?" Hyde said.

"Yeah, that was great!" Donna said. She, Fez, and Kelso had met them in the chamber, too, but Eric didn't know how long those vines would hold the Duergar.

So he gave the shortest, least simple answer he could. "Laurie."

"What?" everyone said, including Jackie.

"Tell you later. Let's get out of here."

The tangled-up Duergar blocked the left-most and right-most passages from the chamber, but one of those led to the agony vent, and the other probably led to something equally as bad. Two more passages remained to choose from, but one went to the slides they slid down.

Several mirrors around the chamber shone with an eerie purple light, and Hubrecht had been re-covered with the thick drape. Eric would've liked to ask him a few things, such as which tunnel to go into, but time was short, so Eric did an experiment.

He stepped a foot inside one of the passages. His friends questioned him, but he gestured for them to wait. Then he put his ear to the smooth tunnel wall and listened... to _silence._ He did the same in the other passage, and faint cracklings vibrated into his ear. It had to be the tunnel leading to the slides, above which was the heartstone chamber.

"This way," he said, waving into the silent tunnel. "Trust me on this."

Donna grasped his normal, unlit hand, and Fez and Kelso followed close behind. Hyde, though hesitated. He bent down and guided Jackie behind him. "Up you go, doll," he said. "Time for a piggyback ride."

She climbed onto his back, and he carried her into the passage.

They all ran deep into the cold air, their shoes and boots clomping on the rocky floor. Eric was intent on getting out of the mountain. He'd run from tunnel to tunnel until they were free, but Donna stopped him. "We need more light, Eric."

He could see perfectly well. The light emitting from his hand was enough for him. The tunnel walls were a deep crimson, like the Duergar themselves, and as shiny as glass. But he rolled his sleeve to his shoulder, giving the rest of them better visibility.

"Eric, it's past your elbow!" Donna said.

The glowing flare-bug venom was indeed inching up his bicep, but Eric couldn't worry about that now. In front of them, Duergar were emerging from the tunnel walls.

"Holy sh—everyone, stay behind me!" Kelso ordered and took the lead with a slight limp. The Duergar had stabbed him in the thigh pretty badly. Blood soaked his white pants.

The six of them bolted down the tunnel as Duergar slowly materialized. The Duergar's separation from the walls sounded like grinding rock, but Eric didn't look behind him until he reached a dead end.

The tunnel had stopped, just like that. No passage to the left or right of them. Just a smooth wall to press his back against while the Duergar approached. Donna clutched his arm. Hyde put Jackie down and searched the tunnel's glassy sides, presumably for an opening. It was a good idea, and the rest of them began to do the same thing.

"I miss the days when it was only the football team trying to kill me," Fez said and glanced behind him.

Eric thought to toss out a few more seeds, but dozens of Duergar were flooding the tunnel, slow as melting glass yet inexorable. Even if the Duergar were captured by vines, where would Eric and Donna go with their friends? Back to the slides? Climbing them would be impossible.

He continued searching the tunnel's cold, smooth sides for a means of escape, and then an odd smell overtook him. It was a bit musky, a bit familiar, and it raised goosebumps up and down his skin.

"This way, please," a male voice said, and Eric looked to the left. A pair of orange eyes were glowing inside the glassy wall, and a human-looking arm gestured for the six of them to join it. Someone was inside that wall.

"Wolf?" Donna said. The word wasn't terror on her lips but recognition, and she went to the wall.

Eric tried to snatch her back, but his hand slipped right off her. He'd used the lit one. "Donna!" he shouted as one of her legs disappeared into the wall. She'd had no chance to tell him how she'd escaped that wolf, but she wasn't offering any explanations. "Donna!" he said again, but the rest of her vanished within the rock.

The Duergar were only twenty feet away now. Their steps were short and sluggish, but their daggers flashed in Eric's light. His two options were staying in the tunnel to be shish-kebabed or have his throat torn out by a wolf. Neither alternative was pleasant, but Hyde made the choice for him and shoved him into the wall.

Eric steeled himself for pain, but he slipped through the rock as if it were air—because it _was_ air. The wall hadn't been a wall but a camouflaged opening. _Very camouflaged._ Eric hadn't been able to detect it with eyes or fingers, and he emerged into another passage.

Further inside were tracks and a wooden mine cart. The wolf was standing nearby, waiting. He was tall with slicked-back hair—and his pinstriped overcoat, Eric had to admit, made him appear somewhat dapper. Donna, thankfully, seemed untouched by him, and she grasped Eric's hand as Hyde and Jackie arrived. They stepped into the passage, followed closely by Fez and Kelso.

"Your carriage awaits," the wolf said and presented the mine cart.

He offered Donna his arm, and she stepped forward, about to take his help.

Eric successfully held her back this time. "Donna," he whispered, "we can't trust him! I don't know if you've noticed, but he's a wolf."

"Damn right," Kelso said.

"We don't have a choice." Donna pulled free from Eric and got into cart.

Hyde lifted Jackie into the cart next, but not without difficulty. His shoulder clearly bothered him from the day-old wolf bite, and his bicep had a nasty wound from the Duergar. His corduroy jacket, too, was slashed where the Duergar's blade had cut him.

"Damn," Fez said. Like Eric, he didn't seem keen on trusting a wolf, but he jumped into the cart after Hyde. Kelso, however, stayed put. "Kelso, I demand you uncross your arms and get into this cart."

"Fine!" Kelso climbed into the cart and re-crossed his arms.

But Eric couldn't do it. He couldn't take that risk. After what wolves did during the Naked Emperor's banquet, all those mangled, dead bodies...

Again, Hyde made the choice for him. He grabbed Eric by the shirt collar, "Get in here, ya big baby," and yanked him into the cart. Eric bumped into Jackie on his way in, and she smacked his side.

"This is going to get fast," the wolf said. "Keep your heads down."

He pulled a lever, and the cart moved along the track with increasing speed. Wind whipped into Eric's hair, and he huddled down with Donna, but he spared a look behind them. Duergar not only spilled into the passage, but they were forming in the walls, too, as if the tunnel were giving birth to them.

"What the hell are those things?" Eric said.

"Maggots of the earth," the wolf said. "They eat up old magic that's settled on the land for too long—hold on! Turn!"

The cart swerved, pitching everyone to the side of it. It straightened out again with a shower of sparks and a sickening shriek on the track.

"What do they want with us," Donna said, "or with anyone? I've never heard of them."

The wolf put two fingers to his temple and scratched. "They can't go to the surface without turning to stone. And some of them get tired of living life in the dark. So they use the lure-chambers to bring surface dwellers down and take their place—"

The cart took another a sharp corner, and Eric almost flew out, but Donna and Kelso caught him.

"Not everyone is happy with their lot in life," the wolf continued, "and not everyone knows how to make the best out of what they were given."

Donna gazed at the wolf with a smile on her face, and Eric didn't like it. "You really have changed, haven't you?" she said.

Eric poked her shoulder. "Donna!"

"Sounds like someone's got some competition," Hyde said, and he smirked even as the wind hit his face. "Good thing you locked her up before you got here, Form—ow! Jackie! Damn it..."

Jackie had pinched Hyde's arm, precisely where the Duergar had sliced him. Blind as she was, she still had impeccable aim.

"Thanks, Jackie," Eric said.

She didn't seem to hear him. Hyde's drying blood had crusted on her fingertips. She sniffed at it, and her nose wrinkled before concern lit on her face. She grasped Hyde's arm, felt for the ripped part of his corduroy jacket, then kissed the spot where he'd been stabbed.

Hyde winced as her lips repeatedly landed on his wound. "It's—ow—okay—ow—Jackie—stop kissing—ow!—me there!" He yanked his arm away and put it around her waist.

"Wolves don't change," Fez said, and Kelso agreed. "They kill without mercy."

The wolf frowned. "Oh, wolfies are all about change, and most of us only pretend to do bad things. But some of us..."

Eric didn't want to hear the ins and outs of wolfishness. He already knew plenty, so he spared another glance behind the cart. The air had grown warmer. The tunnel walls had gone from glassy to regular rock, and the Duergar had vanished. The cart must have outrun them, and up ahead was a pinprick of light. "Hey," he said, "I think we've—"

"Next stop, daylight!" the wolf shouted. "Brace yourselves!"

Sunlight streamed inside the tunnel as the cart whooshed down the track. Eric had trouble breathing with the wind pushing into his nostrils and mouth, and the cart rattled with the _chucka-chucka_ of its uneven, rolling wheels. He gripped the cart's sides as the vibrations grew worse, and then it all stopped as the cart thrust everyone out.

Eric sailed into the air, and his eyes filled with green before he slammed into the ground. The impact made his body tingle, and breathing became impossible for a moment. Donna was groaning beside him, but he could only brush her arm with his unlit pinky. The rest of him refused to move as he stared up at the sky. It was blue with some fluffy clouds, and grass tickled his skin.

He sat up as soon as he was able, once the tingling in his body faded. Donna had all recovered, too, as had their friends. Tall trees surrounded them along with some rose bushes. Much farther away, mountains rose into the sky. But where was Dragon Mountain? The tunnel's rocky mouth wasn't visible behind them, only a grassy overhang. The mine cart must have spat them all over it.

"Ah, we are back in my kingdom," Fez said and stood up. He dusted off his white military jacket, straightened his golden sash. "The far south, I believe."

"Wolf," Donna said and stood up herself, " thank y—hey, where'd he go?"

Kelso jerked his thumb toward the trees. "He ran off like the coward he is..." then his whole body twisted toward the woods, "just like when I STABBED HIS TAIL!"

"Come on!" Donna said. "It was _me_ he tried to eat, remember? If I can get over it, can't you?

"No!" Kelso and Eric shouted together

"Look," Eric offered her his unlit arm, "I'm glad he got us out of that cave of horrors, but don't tell me you trust him."

"I don't know..." She took his arm. "You broke my trust a bunch of times, and I still trust you."

"I never tried to _eat_ you," Eric said.

Fez and Kelso looked at each other, and Fez said, "No wonder she is always angry."

Donna grimaced. "Shut up." Then she withdrew from Eric and turned around.

Jackie was behind her. She must have tapped Donna on the back, and now Jackie launched into an angry but silent tirade. It was full of body language and gestures. She patted her heart, pointed behind herself at Hyde, rolled her blind eyes, and shook her head.

"Whatever you say, Jackie," Donna said, and Jackie stomped her foot on the ground.

"Jackie, I'm sure you're making a fine point," Eric said, "but none of us knows what the hell it is."

Jackie clamped her mouth shut and swung her leg in his general direction. She missed his shin by more than a few inches, and if Eric had doubted it before, he did no longer—she was definitely blind.

Hyde slid an arm around her shoulders and said, "It's me," but Jackie shook her head again, obviously frustrated. Her fists wrapped in the material of his shirt. "Yeah, I know. When we get somewhere with paper, you can write it all down."

She released his shirt and sighed. Eric felt terrible for them. Being cursed had to suck, but he had his own problems with the flare-bug venom and Donna. He had yet to tell her the truth about Laurie, about why he'd agreed to go through the mirror.

"Fez," Hyde said, "anywhere nearby we grab some grub and a snooze?"

Kelso pointed to his own bare chest. "And a shirt? I can't believe that Wolfsbane pellet busted all over me."

Fez nodded. "Yes. Bean Town is not too far away. I was supposed to visit there on my way to the Second Kingdom."

"He was supposed to check on them four months ago," Kelso added, "but he totally blew it off for the Elf Kingdom's Parade."

He grinned as if the memory were a happy one. Fez, though, scowled and held out his hand. "Give me your first lieutenant's badge. You are now a second lieutenant."

"Fez, come on—"

"I said, 'Demotion,' you sonuvabitch! You revealed a kingdom secret."

"Yeah, to our friends," Kelso said. "What do they care if you chose wing-action over work, right guys?"

Eric and Hyde nodded approvingly, but Fez's palm remained in the air, waiting for Kelso's badge.

Kelso folded over the collar of his inside-out jacket and unpinned a golden badge. Only two were left, and Fez's fingers curled over the first lieutenant's badge. He didn't seem pleased about it, however. His relationship with Kelso had to be suffering thanks to their relatively new and strange dynamics. Eric didn't envy them.

"Bean Town is this way," Fez said and moved toward the trees. "The path is straightforward. We should arrive before nightfall."

Eric was glad to hear it. Liberated from the fear of death, his stomach grumbled with a gnawing hunger. And according to Hyde's watch—which the Duergar had refused to touch—it was past 2 o'clock in the afternoon.

Donna held his hand again as they walked into the woods, and the gleam in her eyes warmed him. "You were amazing, you know that?" she said quietly. "You saved us."

"Yeah, well, y'know..." His gaze fell to the grass.

"I just hope you'll tell me _how_ you saved us one of these days—and what your sister has to do with it."

He lifted his gaze and found her expectant face. Her furrowed brow and barely parted lips filled him with a need to kiss away her questions. Instead, he nuzzled her cheek and inhaled her scent. It relaxed him, something more necessary than food right now, and made her laugh.

"I will, Donna. I'll tell you," he said as her fingertips grazed the nape of his neck. "One of these days."


	30. Sweet Things Turn Bitter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 30  
 **SWEET THINGS TURN BITTER**  


The latest distance marker proclaimed only two miles were left before Bean Town. Fez was relieved because with Kelso's limping, the journey had taken longer than expected. Nightfall was only an hour away, but these woods weren't dense, and Eric's poisoned, lit hand would give them some protection.

Upon Fez's request, Donna and Eric took the lead. Fez dropped back next to Hyde, who was carrying Jackie piggyback-style again. The curse had tightened its hold on them, _both_ of them, despite that Jackie bore the brunt right now. Fez used to believe Hyde's interest in her was ephemeral, to piss of Kelso and enjoy her beautiful, luscious body—but Fez had been completely mistaken.

The love between them flowed through their veins, just as Snow White Falls flowed into the Charmant River. To separate them would be a deep loss, not only to them but the world. He'd learned that long ago, and the Duergar's mirror, Hubrecht, had confirmed his suspicions. The curse was meant to destroy more than just their love. It was meant to destroy _all_ love.

Fez slowed his pace further, but Hyde caught his arm. "Hey, man, you work out what that mirror was talking about?"

"Not yet," Fez said. It was the fourth time Hyde had asked, but Fez was still analyzing Hubrecht's words. Prematurely-assessed information was bad information. "You must trust me, my friend.

"Right," Hyde said, sounding unconvinced, but he released Fez's arm.

Fez dropped back again, and leaves crunched beneath his boots. He walked shoulder-to-shoulder with Kelso, but Kelso refused to acknowledge him. The Duergar's horrible dagger must have done painful damage to his thigh. His white pants were stained with blood.

"How badly does it hurt?" Fez said. It was his third attempt to find out.

"What do you care? I'm only your 'second lieutenant'."

"And my second lieutenant you will stay until you've earned back your rank. That doesn't mean I don't care. Kelso, you are my—"

"Save it." Kelso slowed down until he was walking behind Fez. "I've got your rear."

"And you can kiss it, too!" Fez said and immediately regretted it. "Ai... I'm sorry."

"Save it."

"Fine, I will."

Fez returned to the front of the group, but Kelso wouldn't stop protecting him. They'd lost their weapons, their supplies, and Fez's precious emergency candy to those Duergar. Fez had also lost his Eternal Flame candle, won during the Jack-Be-Nimble contest. He didn't want to lose his best friend, too. But Kelso would "have his rear" and protect it as long as breath remained in his body. Fez had no doubt about that. Perhaps he'd been too strict with his Captain of the Guard.

Soon, though, they reached Bean Town's high stone walls. The gate loomed above them, decorated with grotesques of Elves meant to scare off Trolls. The Trolls despised Elves, even more than they hated Kelso.

Two guards stood in front the gate, armed with rapiers at their hips and halberds in their hands. Two more of them stood behind the gate, and who knew how many more were hidden in the woods?

Hyde lowered Jackie to the ground before they approached the gate. "They don't look very welcoming," he said.

"Yes," Fez said. "This town was hit very hard by the Trolls when they invaded my kingdom. It lies close to the Beanstalk Forest, which is part of the Troll Nation."

Donna stood on her toes, as if she could see above the town walls. "Doesn't appear destroyed anymore."

"I've given Bean Town aid to rebuild," Fez said, and he strode toward the guards..

"Your Majesty." The guards bowed and pulled open the heavy iron gate without hesitation.

The guards inside the walls bowed, as well. Then one of them excused himself, claiming he had a royal errand to run, and dashed through Brave Jack Gardens.

The Gardens—with their violet morning glories, vanilla-scented honeysuckle, and pink rose bushes—led to the town square. Fez felt better than he had in weeks as he brought his friends through it. To his eyes, Bean Town had recovered nicely, and the town square only strengthened his observation.

The Square was paved with uncracked stones and lined with marble pillars. These were topped with gold, and rows of stores appeared to be full of goods. The mayor had made expert use of the funds Fez provided, along with the extra manpower, and Fez was more than impressed.

_He was surprised._

The army of Relish the Troll King had wreaked havoc here almost a year ago, setting houses on fire and laying waste to whatever their axes and powerful bodies could touch. But no trace of that destruction was in evidence now, and Fez could hardly believe it.

"Hey, look who it is," Eric said. He pointed to the middle of Town Square where a tall, bronze statue of Fez stood.

Fez blushed. He didn't like being honored with statues, especially that particular representation of himself. He looked fearsome with the Troll King's severed head clutched in his right hand.

"What's with the Troll head?" Donna said.

"Bean Town doesn't know that the Evil Queen actually did the deed," Fez whispered back. By Evil Queen, he meant Laurie, and he hoped Eric didn't mind him mentioning her. "My advisers recommended I let the truth stay in the Deadly Swamp. Better for the my kingdom's morale."

"So you're no better than our government back home, huh?" Hyde said. He was smirking, but Fez knew contempt hid behind his sunglasses. "Lying to the masses."

"I don't feel good about it," Fez said, "but the _greater_ good sometimes requires we set aside our personal morality."

"Uh-huh." Hyde wrapped his arm around Jackie's shoulders. "In your position, without some kind of honor, man, you got nothing." Then he brought Jackie to the side of the statue, out of earshot. Jackie rubbed Hyde's back, as if she were in agreement with him or to show she understood his feelings. But the sad fact was, Fez understood them, too.

"Since when does Hyde talk about honor?" Kelso said.

"He doesn't," Donna said, "and he'll never admit it, but it's a big part of who he is." Kelso opened his mouth, but she interrupted him. "Don't ask me for examples. Trust me, they'll piss you off. Anyway," she gestured to the statue, "Fez, what was in your left hand? It looks like it's supposed to be holding something."

Fez kept his gaze on Eric and said, "It was a rose." Precisely, a representation of _Snow White's_ rose. The one she'd given to Fez—and Fez had given to Eric in recognition of his bravery, love, and sacrifice. "Every town has its vandals. Someone must have stolen it."

"What're you looking at me for?" Hyde had returned with Jackie, and everyone—including Fez—was staring at him. "I haven't stolen a damn thing since I jumped through the mirror... I gotta change that."

But he wouldn't be able to change it any time soon. The citizens of Bean Town had finally noticed Fez's arrival, and they poured into the Square. Some fainted before they arrived. Some stuck their hands in his face, hoping for a handshake. Others tugged on his clothing, and one woman even got a hand inside his pants pocket. She tried to snatch Penny's wedding note to Eric, but Fez's quick reflexes prevented her. The Duergar hadn't been interested enough in the note to take it, and he wasn't about to lose it now.

The crowd swelled as more citizens caught wind of Fez's presence, but Kelso stepped in front of him before any damage could be done. "I know he's awesome, but back off!" Kelso said.

He shoved away the dainty wrist of a hot, young lady, and she screamed elatedly. "He touched me! Kelso the Valiant touched me!"

"Meet me outside the town hall in an hour," Kelso said, "and I'll touch you all you want."

Donna, though, pushed Kelso forward through the crowd while sandwiching Fez's body between Kelso's and herself. "Where are we headed?" she shouted over the ruckus.

"The town hall," Fez said.

"Oh, I see it." Donna elbowed people away. "Hands off! You can talk to him in an official capacity later!"

Fez glanced back at her, "Donna, you would make a fine Captain of the Guard," and Kelso released an insulted gasp.

With some careful maneuvering, they reached the town hall. It was a sprawling, two-story building. Bean Town's flag flew high above it, embroidered with two axes crossed in front of a beanstalk. But the Fourth Kingdom's white and gold flag was raised even higher. They both fluttered in the breeze, and Fez was proud to see them—and eager to speak with the mayor. Surely, that guard who'd run off earlier had informed him of Fez's arrival.

The crowd followed Fez to the arched entryway and shouted for his attention, but one woman pushed to the front. Her scraggly, unkempt hair fell over her hollow cheekbones. Her eyes were both hard and grief-stricken, with dark circles cut beneath them, and she fell to her knees at Fez's feet.

"Please. _Please,_ Your Highness," she begged, "I have lost my seed. My dear seed—my _only_ seed..."

Fez gripped the prostrate woman's bony arms and lifted her up. "You don't have to stay on your knees like that," he said, but once standing, she listed as if she would faint.

Eric rushed to support her. Kelso and Donna were too busy protecting Fez from the crush of the crowd, and Hyde, understandably, had to remain with Jackie. Eric's lit arm and hand were hidden beneath his sleeve and Kelso's leather glove. He was wise to conceal his predicament. A flare-bug bite often drew unwanted attention.

"The mayor claims he has searched," the woman said, "but I don't believe him! There are shadows everywhere now. _Everywhere._ They press down on me when I sleep. They haunt my dreams. And my beautiful seed is lost to me, replaced by roving darkness."

She began to sob—weakly as if she'd been crying far too long. Fez patted her shoulder, wanted to offer some soothing words, but the mayor's assistant darted from the town hall with a retinue of guards. Thearl was his name, a broad-shouldered, balding man in a suit. He bowed low in front of Fez as the guards pushed back the crowd.

"King Fez," Thearl said, "we are honored by your presence. I am so sorry for this rowdy welcome, unworthy of Your Greatness." He rose to his full height, a match to Kelso's, and adjusted his oval spectacles. His eyes flicked to the guards, who'd successfully disbanded the crowd. Then they flicked to the haggard, devastated woman whom Eric still supported.

The guards took the woman from Eric's arm, and Eric said, "Where are they taking her?"

"Elf-struck Evanthe?" Thearl pulled a gold pocket watch from his suit jacket. He seemed more interested in the time than Eric's question. The sun had sunk halfway below the horizon, streaking the sky with orange. "Merely back to her home," he said eventually. "We'll have the good doctor look in on her. She doesn't rest nearly enough. Hasn't been the same since the Seventh Kingdom's parade." He replaced the pocket watch to his suit jacket and lowered is voice. "Took an Elf arrow to the skull."

Fez nodded. Elf arrows caused insanity—with no cure but death. The poor woman... but he couldn't dwell on her. "Friends," he said, "this is Thearl, High Assistant to Mayor Bromley."

"He doesn't seem high to me," Hyde said, and Thearl glanced at him strangely before turning back to the town hall.

"If you'll just follow me, the mayor will be thrilled to see you."

* * *

Unlike the Naked Emperor's palace, Bean Town's town hall was elaborately decorated Tapestries depicted Brave Jack's defeat of the Giant. Portraits displayed Snow White and King Charmant, their children—one of whom happened to be Fez's mother—and Fez himself. Lustrous crown molding ran along the top of the wall, and crystal chandeliers dangled from the ceiling. Even the receptionist's desk had a bejeweled sculpture of a beanstalk.

"Wow. You really know how to stretch those golden Fezes, huh?" Fez said, and Thearl smiled uncomfortably.

"Yes. This way, please."

Down a short hallway, Thearl opened the door to the mayor's office. On the back wall, the Fourth Kingdom's new motto was embossed in gold lettering: "May We All Eat Candy and Live Happily Ever After." The mayor himself, a gray-haired and stout man, wore his silver mayoral sash. He smoothed it down before bowing in Fez's presence.

"King Fez! It is such an honor!"

"Thank you, Mayor."

"Did you receive the confectionery samples we prepared for you? We think they'll represent us quite well at the Candy and Pie Expo."

Ai, unfortunately, I had to leave the castle before they arrived."

"No bother, no bother," the mayor said. "We're in the middle of a tasting fair, and Thearl will have VIP passes for your whole party drawn up."

"Yes!" Fez blurted. Then he deepened his voice to a kingly tone. "I mean, uh... yes, very good."

"Is the Expo still going to happen as planned, Your Highness," Thearl said, "considering Queen Gretel's untimely demise?"

"I have every intention of honoring her memory. Holding the Candy and Pie Expo is what she would have wanted." Fez fought to keep his voice steady. Gretel the Third was a childhood friend of his, and her murder infuriated him beyond thought. More than that, however, he missed her.

An iridescent vase sat on the mayor's desk. Fez picked it up and put it to his ear. A feminine voice whispered, "Your ear is attractive. Your hands are quite active. Your heart is full of lust, but it is also very just."

"Yes..." He put down the vase. It was clearly made by Royal Dwarves. "But what about Bean Town?" he said to the mayor. "I did not expect it to be in such good shape, not so quickly after the Troll invasion. I'm sorry for not visiting sooner to check on your progress."

"That's quite all right, quite all right." The mayor smoothed down his sash again. "We understand. A king has many subjects."

Hyde cleared his throat and stole Fez's attention. "Fez, man—" Thearl and the Mayor gawked at him, likely horrified by the casual address. Hyde caught on. " _King_ Fez, grub and snooze?"

Fez had done his best to ignore his own hunger and exhaustion. But after going through Dragon Mountain and being captured by the Duergar, they all more than deserved a rest. "We require accommodations and food," Fez told the mayor, "and amenities like clothing and matches. I require a copy of _The Fourth Kingdom Times._ My friends Jackie and Hyde require paper and wax crayons—"

"Thanks," Hyde said. "What about a wolf whistle?"

Fez shook his head. "Snow White did not believe in using them. She thought all sentient beings were equal. My parents remained loyal to that vision, as have I..." he swallowed, knowing he'd only partially told the truth, " _as best as I can._ My kingdom neither makes nor imports them."

Hyde's jaw clenched, and his temple twitched, but Fez didn't blame him for being angry. Any protection they could get from wolves was more than welcome, and Fez regretted he could not provide the whistles.

"I also require a letter be sent to my castle," he said to the mayor, "informing my staff that I've arrived in Bean Town safely. We all require clothing, but it is a priority for Sir Kelso. As you can see by the blood on his pants, he also requires a doctor."

"No doctor," Kelso said and raised his finger. "I require boobs." But one of hands remained pressed to his thigh, over his wound.

"Of course. The statehouse is yours," the mayor said, "and staff there will see to your every need. They are at your disposal."

Kelso raised his finger again. "What about the boobs?"

"Kelso!" Donna hissed, but the mayor laughed.

"I don't think you have to worry about that, Sir Kelso," the mayor said. "You are quite the legend around here."

"Awesome." Kelso was finally smiling, and Fez smiled with him, but it was a mistake. Kelso's lips flattened to a grimace. "Awesome for _me._ "

Fez sighed. His kingdom he could shape it to his liking, but his best friend? Not a hope.

* * *

Bean Town's statehouse reminded Hyde of the Burkhart mansion, before Jackie's dad went bankrupt. Both were full of fancy, useless junk. Who needed a guilded banister carved like a beanstalk? Or a curio full of breakable crystal nicknacks?

For a town that was supposed to have been razed by Trolls, they'd rebuilt it quickly and well. But the dining room made him uncomfortable with its stodgy, "rich people" décor. His boots left dirty footprints on the white carpet. His fork scratched the porcelain dishware, garlanded by painted purple flowers. Worst of all, Jackie would've loved the place, and she couldn't freakin' see it.

He told her about their surroundings, though. Told her everything he was doing, too—and what their friends were doing—so she'd have some kind of bearings. She was sitting next to him at the dining table, writing something down as best she could. The statehouse staff had provided crayons and paper. It had also provided fresh clothing, stocked the bedroom closets with all sorts of stuff like formal wear, pajamas, and everyday shirts and pants. Being King had its advantages, apparently, because Bean Town was bending over backwards to fill Fez's requests.

Not that Hyde was complaining. After the day he'd had, with the Duergar and that heartstone, there were worse places he could be. Everyone, including him, had changed clothes. Jackie and Donna finally had on blouses and pants. No more running in those damn dresses, but watching Jackie struggle to clothe herself had pushed Hyde's patience to the limit—not with her. With what the curse had done to her.

She needed to know she could still do things for herself, so he hadn't interfered while she buttoned up her blouse wrong. He let her figure it out while he used the bathroom. Being a passive observer had sent hot anger into his fingers. She deserved so much better than what she was getting, but when he returned to the bedroom, she'd gotten the buttons into the right holes.

He kissed her then; they'd gone too long without a real kiss. It lit him up from the inside, pushed the darkness of the Duergar tunnels from his mind. Afterward, she ran her thumbs over his clean-shaven cheeks and smiled. Five days of beard growth had been on his face, and he'd used his bathroom-time getting rid of it. Shaving was the least he could do for her. She couldn't see his face anymore, but she could feel it.

Now, he kept his knee pressed to hers beneath the dining table. He had to make sure she knew he was there. She was still writing down something that seemed important to her. The crayon sometimes wrote a letter on the tablecloth, and she huffed voicelessly but soldiered on. That was his girl.

They were waiting for dinner's main course. Fez had read _The Fourth Kingdom Times_ throughout the soup course, and he continued to read it. Donna attempted to roll up Forman's dark shirt sleeve, the one covering his lit arm. He'd shaken her off a few times.

"Let me take a look, dillhole," she said, and he finally relented. She pushed the sleeve up, and Hyde shielded his eyes. The flare-bug venom had gone halfway up Forman's bicep and cast a helluva lot of light.

"That's not good, man," Hyde said.

Donna rolled down Forman's sleeve again. "It's getting worse, Eric. We have to do something." Then she glanced over at Fez. "Are you sure there's no cure?"

"Many people have tried many things," Fez said from behind the newspaper. "Some say you have to wrap yourself in night itself."

Forman clinked a spoon on his wine glass, as if that would capture more of Fez's attention. "Real helpful, pal."

Fez put the newspaper down. "Eric, every ailment here has a cure... even if we don't know what it is yet. I won't let you die, my friend."

"No, we won't," Kelso said. He and Hyde had been batting a crumpled piece of paper back and forth, and Kelso aimed it at Forman's glass on his next go. He missed by a mile. Maybe it was bad aim, or maybe it was the wound in his leg. Unlike Hyde, Kelso had refused to see the doctor, claimed he was fine, and maybe he was. He could take a beating and walk away from it, but he always whined about being in pain.

No such gripes from him now.

Hyde looked down at his own arm where the Duergar had sliced him. The cut had been a nasty one, oozing blood, but it had scabbed up and seemed to be healing nicely. His shoulder, too. The doctor had taken off the bandage covering the the wolf bite. She cleaned off the dried moss from the Fifth Kingdom doc. It hurt a little, but Jackie found his shoulder with her lips and kissed him there. Her kiss warmed his skin, and, strangely, whatever pain lingered in the wound finally disappeared.

The doctor then dabbed on some kind of ointment and stuck a much smaller bandage to his shoulder. No infection had set in, which had been Hyde's biggest concern. He needed to be healthy, man, needed his body to work so he could protect Jackie. Kelso had to guard Fez. Donna, understandably, was worried about Forman. Hyde was all Jackie had right now.

"Damn it," Fez said. The newspaper was in front of his face again. "I have only fourteen days to get to the Second Kingdom."

"You think it's gonna take longer than that?" Kelso said.

"No. It just gives little time for my needs."

"You got _no_ time for your needs," Hyde said. "Not until you've—" _helped me and Jackie break this curse,_ he was going to say. Also, _not until you figure out how to shut off that light in Forman's arm,_ but Jackie was patting his knee and pointing to the paper she'd been writing on. He brushed her curse-afflicted orange hair from her blind eyes. Then he took the paper.

Her handwriting was somewhat messy and slanting down, but it was readable:

_Look at what you fear to see,_  
And the curse will cease to be.  
Listen to what you refuse to hear,  
And the curse will disappear.

_Push through the dirt you must not spurn._  
Climb to the sun that does not burn.  
Over the hills your true answer lies,  
Beneath a blue and shattered sky.

What does it mean, Steven?

Jackie had written down the old mirror's answer about breaking the curse.

"Huh. You caught that much? I only heard the first part."

She didn't seem to like his response. She sighed and her fingers fiddled with a fold in the tablecloth.

"Hey, I got an easier answer for you," he said, "take off the damn ring."

She liked that one even less. She wrote something furiously on her stack of paper, but he was saved from her tirade by the main course.

Attendants brought in plates of what looked like chicken, but Fez said, "Pheasant is pleasant."

"Pheasant, huh?" Hyde quirked up an eyebrow. "Long as it ain't crow."

He dug into his plate, but Jackie had trouble. Cutting into the pheasant blindly wasn't efficient—or working.

Hyde wasn't sure what to do. She'd eaten the soup course hesitantly at first, but she'd gotten the hang of it. None of the spicy minestrone ended up on her blouse. But now her knife pushed the pheasant off her plate instead of slicing it up. She had a lot of pride. Maybe too much. If he cut the pheasant for her, she'd feel like a little kid. He would have felt the same had their situations been reversed. So he said, "Just pick it up with your hands and eat it like a man. That's what Forman's doin'."

A lie. Forman wasn't. He was letting Donna cut his food for him. That lit hand of his couldn't hold anything.

_Yeah,_ Hyde had lied. Not his favorite thing to do, especially now when Jackie relied on him. But if an occasional lie would help her survive, it was a guilt he was willing to carry.

"Hell, I'll eat like a man with ya," Hyde said.

He put down his silverware, but Jackie rumpled her face in disgust. She wrote down, "I can't do that. I'm in the presence of royalty."

He laughed. "Royalty? You mean Fez? It's Fez, man! Who cares? It'll probably turn him on."

"Burn!" Kelso shouted at Fez, and Jackie crossed her arms.

She was refusing to eat. Her fuckin' pride...

Hyde cut her pheasant into pieces and speared some on her fork. He placed the pheasant chunk under her nose, hoping the smell of rosemary and lemon would entice her. She opened her mouth and touched the pheasant with her tongue. Her blind eyes closed as if the taste satisfied her. Then she took the fork from him and ate.

After a dessert of chocolate mousse, everyone split to their rooms upstairs. The night was young, but they were all exhausted. Too much had gone down today, and a smoke would've been nice. Hyde still had a four joints left. The Duergar hadn't swiped them, but more than ever Jackie needed him to be clear-headed.

She was sitting on a wingback chair while he raided the closet for pajamas. He took out a nightgown for her and a silk number for himself. Too Hugh Hefner for his liking, but it would probably be comfortable. He gave her the nightgown without offering help—but the idea of helping her undress did cross his mind. The statehouse staff hadn't filled his latest request yet: lambskin condoms.

Too bad. He wanted to be inside her, to make her forget all this shit—to make her feel good for a few damn minutes. No such luck tonight. She'd refused anything less than the full experience, and he had the same need. His head between her thighs wouldn't have been enough for him, either.

He held her close once they were both in bed. The mattress was thick and soft beneath him, and the comforter didn't make him too hot. Jackie's satin nightgown felt smooth on his skin. She was safe in his arms, and her breaths against his chin lulled him to sleep almost immediately.

An urgent tap on his chest woke him. Couldn't have been too much later. His eyes remained closed, and he let out a groggy, "What's wrong?" expecting to hear her answer.

The rustle and cool breeze of a piece of paper forced open his eyes.

"Crap. Right," he muttered. She couldn't talk.

He sat up. Moonlight shone through the window, and he read the paper by it: "Can't sleep. Talk to me."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Anything," she wrote. "Just talk." Then she put the paper and crayon down on the nightstand and slipped back into the sheets.

He wrapped his arms around her again. She still felt good on top of him, no matter the extra forty pounds she carried. "Okay, uh... do you know the real reason Forman broke his arm in the eighth grade? It wasn't from chasing a mugger. He climbed out his window and tried to catch sight of Donna's boo—"

Jackie flicked his cheek, like she was changing the channel on a TV.

He thought for a moment. "Yeah, okay. I got it. You wanna hear how Kelso and I met?"

She kissed the same spot on his face she'd flicked seconds ago. That had to mean yes.

"He must've told you his version, but he probably lied," Hyde said, and Jackie's chest bounced as her breaths tickled his neck. She was giggling... _nice._ "It was first grade," he continued, "and he'd stolen some wooden blocks from the wrong group of kids..."

The story of Kelso's shorts being yanked off in the classroom—by Hyde himself—seemed to calm Jackie into a sleepy state. He began another tale, of how he and Kelso actually became friends, and slumber finally took her. He followed her there swiftly.

In the morning, an attendant brought Hyde's corduroy jacket, black Zeppelin shirt, and jeans to the bedroom door. The jacket's tear had been darned, and his clothes had been washed along with Jackie's burgundy dress, but she wouldn't be wearing that again. The attendant also brought them two leather knapsacks, two waterskins, and a decent amount of lambskin condoms, each individually sealed between thin plates of silver. _Man,_ Bean Town really was giving Fez and his "entourage" the royal treatment.

Hyde dressed in his own clothes, including his shades, but Jackie had trouble with the shirt-and-pants combo he'd picked out for her. The sleeves' cuffs needed to be buttoned and rolled up, and after watching her struggle for five minutes with them, he stepped in. "Jackie," his fingers grasped one of the buttons, "you gotta let me help you."

She shoved him away with her shoulder and resumed fumbling with the button.

"Look," he said, "remember when I first hung out with W.B., and he didn't call me for a few days—and I didn't wanna call him? But you kept pestering me to do it anyway, so I did?" She nodded, still concentrating on buttoning her sleeve. "And it turned out it was the right thing to do, even though I was being a stubborn asshole about it." He wrapped his hand around her blundering fingers. "So quit being a stubborn asshole and let me help you."

She relented but not happily. She frowned as he buttoned her sleeves and rolled up the cuffs.

"I know you hate it, doll. I'd hate it, too."

She gestured in the air, as if she wanted to write something. He sat her on the divan across from the bed, got her some paper and a crayon. "I feel like a little child," she wrote. "I'm so damn helpless."

"Yeah, but I'm not seeing you that way... if it makes any difference."

"What do you see me as?" she wrote.

He sat next to her and draped an arm around her shoulders. "Brave as hell," he said.

She smiled and reached for his face. Her palms cupped his cheeks. Then her fingers slipped higher to his shades. "Steven," she mouthed and pulled the shades off his face.

"Even when you're blind, I can't get away with it, huh?" He hooked the shades onto his shirt collar.

"No," she mouthed. Her thumbs smoothed over his eyebrows, and his eyes fell shut as she ran her thumbs gently over his lashes.

"Jackie—" There was pain in her touch, not physical. His heart pounded with it. "I..." _love you,_ he wanted to say, but she drew him closer and kissed him slowly.

He savored the fluid push of her lips, the glide of her fingers over the nape of his neck. Her warm tongue coaxed his mouth to take her deeper, and he nearly lost himself to the sensation, body electrified by their connection, until the setting of her ring snagged in his hair.

He let her disentangle herself. If he interfered, she'd wrench herself away, and her trust in him would diminish. That ring had to come off her, but now wasn't the time.

"I have to be able to feel your face, baby," she wrote afterward, "all of it."

He brought her right hand to his lips—the crayon was still clenched in her fingers—and he kissed the inside of her wrist. "Okay."

* * *

Eric had eaten three helpings of bacon and eggs for breakfast. He was making up for lost time, but Kelso had barely finished one plate. He'd arrived in the dining room, pale-faced, as everyone else was finishing.

He looked paler now in the statehouse's front hall. Everyone had gathered there to wait for Thearl. Oblique sunrays poured in through the windows, a match to the brightness of Eric's arm. He was keeping it hidden in his coat sleeve and Kelso's leather glove. The coat made him sweat, but it was better than blinding everyone—almost everyone. Jackie was already blind.

"Bad sleep, Kelso?" Eric said. He hadn't asked earlier, afraid to disturb Kelso's already delicate appetite. Kelso had shoved scrambled eggs around his plate, nibbled at the bacon. Such a waste of perfectly good food. "You're less... _you_ than usual."

"What? No." Kelso scratched the back of his leg, the one the Duergar had stabbed.

"So, we ready to hit the Second Kingdom?" Hyde said. "Looks like Thearl ain't gonna show."

"After the Tasting Fair," Fez said. "I have needs... of candy and pie. In two weeks, the best bakers in all the Kingdoms will be at the Expo. I want to see how Bean Town's contenders will fair... by going to the fair."

"We don't have time for that." Donna adjusted the straps of her knapsack. Unlike Eric, she'd brought it with her, full of clothes, candles, matches, and the waterskins she'd asked the statehouse staff for. He planned on splitting the load with her, but she'd frantically packed the bag before breakfast. "I mean, Eric's turning into sunbeam, and Jackie's—"

Fez put up a hand. "There's always time for candy, pie, and whores. I think better when I'm fulfilled. And our weapons haven't arrived yet. We can't leave Bean Town until we're armed." He moved toward the statehouse door, but it swung opened before he reached it.

Thearl entered, wearing his gray suit and oval spectacles. He bowed before Fez and smiled officiously. "I hope you enjoyed your first night here." Then he handed everyone a silver pendant hanging off a long chain. "These are your VIP passes to the Tasting Fair. They'll allow you to sample dishes—not just pie and candy—from every table gratis."

The pendant was of a candy cane, and Eric draped its chain around his neck. The prospect of eating more food sounded great—and distracting. _Man,_ did he need a distraction. His lit arm had begun to tingle as if it had fallen asleep. He shook it.

"Eric," Donna whispered, "are you okay?"

"Fine," he said, but he continued to shake his arm as Thearl led them outside.

The morning air was cool, and the sky was somewhat hazy, despite the sunlight cutting through it. Hyde let Donna borrow his sunglasses, "Just in case Forman wants to shed his skin," he said, indicating Eric's coat. Fortunately, it wouldn't be necessary. Eric's arm stopped tingling once they reached the fair.

The seven of them ended up at a wide cobblestone street packed with people. Long tables had been set up on both sides, and all kinds of food were on offer—delicately frosted cakes, sizzling beef, and whole roast pigs on spits. They smelled ridiculously good. Eric's mouth was already watering. They must have tasted delicious, too, because the fair's guests let out a variety of delighted noises and exclamations.

"If you'll not be needing anything else from me?" Thearl said.

"You are dismissed," Fez said, and Thearl bowed before leaving.

A child's cries rang through the air, and Eric cupped his mouth by Donna's ear. "Uh-oh," he sang, "sounds like candy was stolen from a baby."

Hyde's arm slung around Jackie's shoulders, and he pulled her toward the fair. "We have date with some chocolate."

"Wait!" Donna touched Hyde's arm to stop him. "We should have a plan. One hour of—"

Both Fez and Eric put up two fingers.

She rolled her eyes. Hyde's sunglasses were dangling from the collar of her shirt. "Okay, _two_ hours of indulging ourselves, and we meet back at Town Hall. The weapons should be there by then, right?" Fez nodded. "Then we'll pack some food and head for the Second Kingdom because we really can't wait any longer."

"So..." Fez said, stepping closer to her, "you like to make orders."

"Fez," she said warningly.

"So... you like to say my name."

"Fez!"

"So... you like to _scream_ my name." Fez was grinning. "Well, baby, Fez is willing, ready, and able to help you do that. I am a king, after all."

"Okay, okay... back off," Eric said. He stood between them, though Fez's flirting was harmless. "Are we all cool with Donna's plan?"

Everyone voiced their agreement but Jackie, who signaled an "a-okay" with her hand. Then the six of them broke up into their usual pairs, Hyde with Jackie, Fez with Kelso, and Donna with Eric.

"Where do you want to go?" Donna said as they walked into the crowded street..

"Wherever you do, my lemon drop."

She hit his chest. "Not gonna work. Try again... oh! Gumdrops!" She tugged him to table covered in colorful gumdrops.

"My God," he said. "Donna, we've entered Candy Land."

"Not yet, you haven't." A blonde girl, no older than ten, was smirking at him. She seemed in charge of the table, and her piercing eyes sent a shiver through his body.

"Hi," Donna said to her. "Is there anything special to these gumdrops?"

"Oh, yes." The girl used wooden tongs to pick up an orange gumdrop. She placed the gumdrop in Donna's palm, and—upon contact—the orange candy bloomed into a tiger lily. "Have a taste."

Donna bit into a candy petal, and it crackled on her tongue like Pop Rocks. He heard the sounds. "That's incredible," she said and ate another bite. "It's sweet but spicy at the same time."

"Like yourself, m'lady," Eric said. He held out his hand to the blonde girl. "What've you got for me?"

The girl plunked a red gumdrop into his palm. The candy bloomed into a rose, and Eric's fingers closed around it, nearly crushing it before he got ahold of himself. That girl—on the whole, her face was unfamiliar, but the eyes and the way she smirked... the _rose—_ she _had_ to be his sister.

He put the candy rose to his lips and took a slow, cautious bite. The petal tasted like ashes on his tongue. He spat it out.

"Sweet things turn bitter in the mouths of those who keep secrets," the girl said.

"Let's go." Eric grabbed Donna and pulled her back into the crowded street.

"Eric, what was _that_ about?" she said. "What are you keeping from me?"

He looked at her sadly. She was too perceptive. "Only some delicious food from your tongue, my tiger lily." He gave a flourish with his hand, "Enough chatter!" and led her down the packed, cobblestone street.

They stopped at a table full of fluffy, hot pies. Their scents, as enticing as they were, weren't enough to deter Donna from the interrogation. "It has to do with Laurie, doesn't it?" she said, and he was amazed she saw through him so easily. "That gumdrop girl, the seeds you tossed at the Duergar..."

"Yeah." He fixed his gaze on Donna's blue, questioning eyes. "Laurie was at the wedding."

"What?" She flinched as if he'd stung her. "But—no. She'd dead."

"You know that flower girl at the wedding? The one who neither of us had any idea was? That was her."

Donna covered her mouth and released a muffled, "That's not possible."

"It is. She's become a Fairy Godmother or something. Like Snow White—only whorey." Eric was rocking on his heels, and he slid his hands into his back pants pockets. The shame inside him had settled with all the running they'd been doing and the flare-bug bite... but this conversation kicked it back up. Guilt choked his throat, blinded his eyes, and all he wanted to do was find some hovel to curl up in for a while... maybe with some of the fair's roast pig to eat.

But he forced himself to continue. "Donna, she told me... She told me I had to come back here. She said there was a reason _she_ was chosen by Snow White's stepmother to carry out her work, that it has to do with our family..."

"Like what?" Donna gripped his shoulders. "Eric, what _exactly_ did she tell you?"

"Not much. She gave me those seeds, told me that what I choose to nurture grows." He let out a chuckle. "She did call me a loser, though. That was nice. Like old times."

"Well, what does Fez have to say about all this?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

"Wait, you never asked him?"

"Um... no?"

"You are such a dumbass!" She was shaking him in front of those succulent pies. "Your dead sister shows up at the wedding and says, 'By the way, Eric, we've got a family secret tied to Fez's magical realm,' and you don't tell Fez about it?"

"You still have to love me, Donna. That was in our vows, remember? 'Through smart times and dumbassery'?"

Her face had grown red, but she stopped jostling him and pulled him into a hug. "You should have told me, Eric. Don't you trust me?"

He shut his eyes and buried his face in her hair. It smelled like soap instead of sweat and dirt. "More than anyone."

"Then why didn't you—?"

He withdrew before she could finish. He wanted to look at her. "I don't trust _me,_ okay? Donna, I have no idea what the hell is going on. Laurie could just be messing with me, you know? A beyond-the-grave burn. And I don't—I just don't want to screw up my life. To screw _us_ over."

"Well, you can start by telling your wife the next time your dead sister's spirit shows up."

He nodded, "Yeah. Yeah, okay," and pointed down the street. "I think the gumdrop girl was her, too."

"Oh, God." She left him and pushed through the crowd of people. She returned a few moments later, partially out of breath. "The girl's not there anymore. If that was Laurie, she's gone."

"She's like a bad penny. She'll turn up again." At least, Eric hoped she would.

"That's one of your mother's expressions," Donna said. Then she kissed him, and her touch was both tender and forgiving.

"Who's your dumbass?" he said afterward.

She sighed. "You are."

* * *

Kelso and Fez were both at a table, but Kelso had no idea what food was on it. Two girls, scantily clad in candy outfits, stole his attention. They had gumdrops on their nipples, and no food on a _table_ could compare to that. Neither could the cold he was coming down with. He'd felt like crap before, but now he felt great.

"Hey, babes." He leaned against the table and put on his deep, authoritative voice. "I'm Kelso the Valiant, defeater of Trolls. How 'bout I valiantly lick those gumdrops off you?"

The girls both giggled and said, "We know who you are."

He reached out to touch their bare waists, but Fez elbowed his way in front of him. "Yes, and I am the king," Fez said. " _Your_ king."

The girls looked at each other and giggled louder.

"Yeah," Kelso shoved Fez backward, "and he's got too much _duty_ to fool around with you two. But I don't..." He peered back at Fez, who was glaring at him. "I _used_ to, but my duty has recently been lightened."

"No, it hasn't." Fez pulled Kelso's rank badges from his pants pocket and pinned them to Kelso's white jacket. "You are promoted back to Captain. Now you have too much duty, too."

Kelso unpinned the badges and pushed them back into Fez's hand. "I don't want your stinkin' duty!"

"Well, I don't want it either!" Fez shouted but returned the badges into his pocket.

"We know what you need," one of the girls said. She looped her arms around one of Fez's. The other girl did the same to Kelso.

"And what is that, my lovelies?" Fez said.

The girl holding onto Fez giggled again. "Some candy."

"From your boobs?" Kelso said. His body felt super-charged. Any sickness trying to invade his blood wouldn't stand a chance, not with this chick wrapped around him.

She licked his earlobe and whispered, "Of course... and anywhere else you'd like," which set his body on fire—the good kind of fire.

"But it can only be for an hour," Fez said. The girls were drawing him and Kelso away from the fair. "We must get back to the statehouse."

"Of course," Kelso said. "We'll be gone for only _two_ hours."

* * *

Deep in the fair, Hyde was feeding Jackie all kinds of chocolate, and she seemed to enjoy it. No one in the crowd bothered them. They were just two "lovebirds" out for a stroll. Not the cursed friends of King Fez. And Jackie didn't balk at being fed what was essentially junk food. Maybe the extra weight had driven away some of her vanity...

Or maybe the chocolate was too damn good to refuse. She'd insisted on feeding him a dark square of it, and the heated, sweet taste spread from his belly to his fingertips, then down lower. It was making him horny, man. Something magic had to be mixed in.

He dropped one of those squares into Jackie's mouth. Her eyes closed, and a surprised grin brightened her face. He knew that expression. Usually, he was the one causing it.

Silently, she asked for another square. He obliged, and her body quivered. He had to hold her steady as she rode the wave. She leaned against him, breathing heavily. Not his favorite thing that magic gave her that much pleasure. But for now, it suited his purposes.

He stroked her left arm, and she didn't yank it away. The chocolate had completely distracted her. His heart pounded as his fingers closed around the engagement ring. He slid it past her first knuckle then toward the second. This was actually going to happen. He was going to get that damn ring off her. It touched her second knuckle...

Then she closed her fist around his fingers.

_Damn it!_ She'd caught onto his trick and was withdrawing from him. _No,_ that ring was coming off, man. He grabbed her waist and pulled her to his chest. Then he used a cruel tactic—he tickled her.

She squirmed beneath his arm, jerked against his body. Her fist remained closed around the ring, but he tickled her relentlessly. He knew her most sensitive spots—just above her knees, her sides—and he waited for her fist to pop open, hating himself the whole time. She was freakin' blind, and she despised being tickled. It must have felt worse than crap, but she'd feel so much better when that ring was off.

He slipped his hand beneath her blouse and went for the area just below her breasts. She'd be helpless in seconds, but her elbow rammed into his neck, and the force of it choked him. His arm sprang off her, and he clutched his throat, coughing. _Damn that chick._ Even blind, she was anything _but_ helpless.

Tears gathered in his eyes from the coughing, and his ribs hurt from the effort of regaining his breath. She'd done a number on him, but her hands rubbed and patted his back. Soon, his throat relaxed, and his breath normalized, save a few straggling coughs.

"Jackie," he said, but he couldn't see her. His lashes clung wetly together.

She wagged a finger at him when he managed to wipe his eyes. She popped a piece of chocolate into her mouth, cupped his chin, and kissed him with the chocolate still on her tongue. It was hot and spicy, just like that last move of hers.

She tangled her fingers into his hair and gave him a kiss that could have made him climax—had they not been outside and surrounded by people. She was stubborn as hell, man., and trying to protect him. He could only admire that... and her.


	31. A Walking Shadow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 31  
 **A WALKING SHADOW**  


Eric's lit arm started bothering him again halfway through dinner. It went tingly like it had fallen asleep then completely numb, a corpse's arm dangling from his shoulder. He didn't let anyone know about it, just rested the dead, glowing thing on his knee and ate. They were supposed to have left Bean Town hours ago for the Second Kingdom. The promised weapons had arrived by the designated meeting time, but Fez and Kelso were no-shows.

Before dinner, Eric had waited an hour with Donna, Hyde, and Jackie in the statehouse; then they searched for Fez and Kelso outside. They scoured the Tasting Fair, tried the town hall, but the mayor's High Assistant, Thearl, said, "King Fez and Sir Kelso are likely enjoying what Bean Town has to offer. I wouldn't be concerned."

Back at the statehouse, Jackie scribbled down a few choice insults about their missing friends. Hyde paced the study like a caged lion, and Donna ripped apart a pillow. Eric, however, sat calmly, thinking about his sister and what the hell their "family secret" could possibly be. Donna was right about asking Fez about it. Eric should have done that at the wedding.

Now, at dinner, everyone had empty plates in front of them. It was another luscious meal—honey-glazed lamb with peaches and gapes, a dessert of crunchy pecan pie. Eric couldn't complain about that. His stomach was more than satisfied, but his mind wouldn't get the same pleasure. Not unless Fez got his kingly butt back to the statehouse with Kelso.

Attendants cleared the dining table, and Eric stood up. His lit arm still felt like a heavy noodle hooked to his shoulder. Donna must have noticed his discomfort—or the fact that his arm just lay there—because she frowned and grabbed his sleeve-covered wrist.

"It's okay," Eric said. "Just a little numbness. It wore off before..."

"'Before'?" Donna raised an eyebrow. "You mean it went all floppy like this _before?_ "

"Not floppy, exactly. More like asleep."

She let go of him and pushed herself from the table. "Okay, where the hell are Fez and Kelso? When they get back, I'm gonna shine your hand in their eyes until they're crying."

"They're probably out nailing twenty of those Bean Town chicks," Hyde said and leaned his chin on his fist. His other arm remained around Jackie's back, as it had throughout dinner, and his boot tapped beneath the table. He was beyond pissed. Eric could tell by the visual cues alone, but his scent was unmistakable. "They all seem hot for 'em."

"Well, this sucks." Donna peered out of a twilight-filled window. "We should've been out of here by now. You know what? I'm gonna find them and bring 'em back here and kick their damn asses, and then we're going."

"Donna, it's getting dark out," Eric said.

"Exactly. By the time we reach the Second Kingdom, it'll be day."

She strode from the window toward the dining room door. She aimed on leaving the statehouse, and Eric wouldn't be able to stop her. But Jackie leapt from her chair and clapped loudly, provoking Donna to turn around.

"Jackie?" she said, and Jackie patted her chest then pointed in Donna's general direction.

Hyde was standing now. "You wanna go with her?"

Jackie nodded.

"I don't think so." He pinched the hem of her blouse and wound his finger in the material, as if that would be enough to keep her still. "You'll just slow her down."

"No, it's okay." Donna approached Jackie and took her hand. "Maybe she'll hear something familiar, like Kelso's satisfied grunt after—"

"The Apollo Rocket of Love's thirty seconds of lift-off?" Eric said, and Jackie laughed silently.

"Fine, but you're wearing one of those swords," Hyde said to Donna, "and if you ain't back in an hour—"

Donna smiled with what was meant to be encouragement, but Eric recognized the fear in her face. "We will be."

She and Jackie walked hand-in-hand out of the dining room while Eric and Hyde followed. Donna strapped on a sword belt in the front hall, sheathed a rapier, but Hyde pulled her aside afterward and whispered, "Keep her safe."

"I will."

"You have to."

"Hyde, nothing's going to happen." Donna gave his unwounded shoulder a squeeze, but Hyde didn't look entirely convinced. He couldn't have wanted Jackie or Eric to hear that conversation, either. But Eric's hearing had grown acute because of all his weight training—or something. He didn't really know the reason why, but he'd heard Hyde and Donna's private conversation by the stairs.

And once Donna and Jackie left the statehouse, Eric said to Hyde, "Why'd you let her go?"

"Feeling helpless sucks." Hyde cleared his throat, signaling that this was all he'd say on the subject. He patted Eric on the back. "Time for dessert."

"But we already had—"

Hyde mimed taking a pull off a joint.

"Oh... _dessert,_ " Eric said, grinning.

In Hyde and Jackie's room upstairs, Hyde sat in the wingback chair and sparked up a joint with a match. Eric was sitting on the divan, sleeves rolled up. The flare-bug venom had reached his shoulder, and the glow from his arm brightened the room. No need for the torchieres.

"Looks like you're already lit up, man," Hyde said and slipped on his sunglasses. He took the first hit off the joint and passed it to Eric. Then he hunched over his knees instead of leaning back.

"Hey," Eric blew out smoke, "you're really worried about Jackie, huh?"

Hyde glanced up and smiled a sad, little smile. "You know, I almost got the damn ring off her at the fair, but she just won't let go of the thing." He took his second hit and held in the smoke. He didn't speak again for several seconds. "Yeah, man..." the smoke burst from his mouth, "I _am_ worried. But not just about her."

His eyes were hard and focused on Eric now, and Eric scooted back on the divan. He must've resembled a startled cat, but Hyde's emotional honesty had spooked him.

"What," Eric scoffed, "you're worried about me? No, I'm fine. I'm fine." He sucked smoke deep into his lungs, too deep, and coughed. "I'm gonna—gonna die of light poisoning, but I'm—I'm great."

A few more passes between them, and Hyde was chuckling. The joint must have started to affect him. "You're not gonna die, man," he said. "You wouldn't kick the bucket before seeing the last _Star Wars_ movie."

Eric nodded. "That's true. I mean, Luke still has a chance, right? With Han stuck in carbonite, maybe Leia realizes she should've bet on the Jedi." He lay back on the divan with his unlit arm behind his head. The joint was definitely affecting him now, too. "Oh, who am I kidding? Leia and Han probably already did it in Cloud City, and I'm toast... toasted. Maybe this was all part of Laurie's plan, her revenge."

"What did you just say?" Hyde wasn't laughing anymore.

"Yeah, Laurie was at the wedding. Told me to go through the mirror. Family secret. Yadda, yadda, yadda."

"Forman!" Hyde leapt off the chair, grasped Eric's shirt, and yanked him to a seated position. "Why the hell didn't you tell me that before?"

"Wow. You're really strong," Eric said, and Hyde let him drop back to the divan. "I wish I was that strong."

"What crap are you spewing now?" Hyde hadn't sat down. He was looming over Eric, casting a shadow over his body.

"No, Hyde." Eric waved his lit hand at him. The deadness was gone, and his fingers felt like they were under water again. "That's why Red's always liked you more than me. You don't take shit. You don't cry. You don't... You don't get bitten by things that'll kill you."

"Yeah, I just get cursed." Hyde stuck the shrinking joint in his mouth, and the butt blazed orange with his pull. "Maybe if you'd quit whining about all the things you're not, you'd get what you _are_ and be happy for once."

"Happy?" Eric reached out for the joint with his lit hand. Hyde held the joint to Eric's mouth instead, and Eric made his drag a long one. "You're—" The smoke clogged his lungs and prevented him from speaking. He coughed for a good thirty seconds before he got out his thought. Or maybe it was a different thought. He couldn't remember. "You're most of the things I wanna be, and _you're_ not happy."

"That's 'cause I'm fucking cursed, man!"

"No." Eric pushed himself up, and he pointed a lit finger at Hyde's sunglasses. "No, you're cursed because you're not happy."

Hyde pinched the end of the joint with his thumb and forefinger. "Okay, you're done."

"Yeah..." Eric sighed. "Yeah, I think I am."

* * *

Bean Town seemed to roll up its streets by dinner time—not that Jackie could see it. But very few voices or footsteps reached her, Town Hall was locked for the night, and Donna cursed after each shop they went to because it was closed.

The search for Michael and Fez felt tedious and pointless, but that could've been a function of Jackie's blindness. Still, she was glad not to be dependent on Steven for a little while. He deserved a break, and Donna never, not once, let go of her hand... until after the eleventh shop they tried.

"Well, I don't know where else to look," Donna said.

Jackie mimed taking a drink from a beer can, hoping she would get the picture.

"A bar?" Donna said. "No, an inn!" She grabbed Jackie's hand again and dragged her along. "There's got to be an inn somewhere. Maybe that's where those two idiots have been fooling around—not with each other, despite Eric and Hyde's bet to the contrary."

They soon—okay, _Donna_ soon found the local inn because Jackie couldn't find anything without her sight. But according to Donna, the inn was called Brave Jack's. It should have been renamed "Brave Jackie's," considering how brave she'd been lately. Steven had fought to take her ring off at the fair, and she almost let him do it. But for him to become blind or worse? The idea of him suffering had driven her to fight back, to keep the ring on.

But the next time he tried to remove it—and there _would_ be a next time—she didn't know how strong she'd be.

"We're going in... to the inn," Donna said, and her lame attempt at humor didn't make Jackie laugh.

The smell inside Brave Jack's, however, did make Jackie gag. The overwhelming odor of meat and cabbage strung her eyes, and she covered her mouth and nose. Chatter filled the place, too, and clinking glasses.

"We're going to the bar," Donna said, and moments later something hard pressed against Jackie's hip. A wooden stool? "Excuse me, sir," Donna said to someone, "but have King Fez or Kelso the Valiant been in here lately?"

Someone, maybe the bartender, answered with a thick, porridge-y voice that sickened Jackie worse than the inn's stink. "Oh, yeah," he said. "Kelso the Valiant was here not an hour ago with two good-lookin' ladies like yourselves."

Jackie sighed. At least Michael and Fez were still alive. She tuned toward the porridge-y voice, but a grubby finger touched the bottom of her chin. She smacked the offending hand away.

"Oh, come on, sweets," a silky, male voice said, and whoever it was grabbed her wrist. Sharp nails dug into her skin, and he pulled her close enough that his meat-breath blasted up her nose. "I like my meals a little fatty." He pinched a roll of her stomach between his fingers, and a snarl replaced the silkiness of his voice. "Give us a bite."

"Get off her!" Donna shouted and yanked Jackie free of her disgusting assailant. They were running, and Donna didn't let up or say anything until the cool, outside air breezed against their skin for a while. "That was... that was a wolf," she sad breathlessly. "I don't think he was part of the pack looking for you. He didn't seem interested in your ring."

"What?" Jackie yelled silently. "My ring?" She clutched Donna's shirt and stood on her toes. "What are you talking about, you redheaded moose?"

"That wolf who saved us from the Duergar," Donna said, "he said the pack that's been following us is interested in only _two_ of us. You, for the ring, but he had no chance to tell me the other one. It's gotta be Hyde, though, right? Only makes sense since he's cursed with you."

Jackie's thumb traced over the band of her ring... then over the diamond she could no longer see. Visions of Steven's body, rent and bleeding, burned behind her eyes. That ring wasn't coming off her finger. _Ever._ Because those wolves would _not_ be touching Steven again, not unless she were dead.

* * *

Jackie and Donna returned to the statehouse, and Steven identified himself immediately. He must have been waiting for them in the front hall. He pressed a hand to her non-existent waist, and the fingertips from his other hand brushed over her cheeks, down her arms—was he checking her over? His hand stopped at her wrist. His thumb rubbed her delicate skin, and she cried out silently, more from shock than from pain. The contact had stung.

"How'd she get cut?" Steven said, and Donna told him about the wolf at the bar. "Shit."

"They're looking for us, Steven," Jackie said. "They want the ring," but he couldn't hear her, so she pointed to the ring.

"Yeah, I figured that out a while ago," Steven said, "back when that wolf nabbed you at the Naked Emperor's palace."

He'd kept that bit a secret to protect her, but how safe could she be? She was already blind and mute and dependent. "Why?" she said, hoping he could read her lips. "Why do they want it?"

"Maybe it has to do with who cursed us. Come on." He guided her out of the front hall, and they reached the stairs leading up to the bedrooms. "Oh, uh, Donna?" he said. "Forman's sleeping it off."

"Sleeping what off?" Donna said behind them.

"Himself."

* * *

In the bedroom, Steven helped Jackie undress. Exhaustion forced her to let him. She was too tired to argue or fumble with her clothing. They slid into the bed together, and she lay on top of him, grateful for the quiet moment.

His strong, warm body eased the day's frustration and fear from her mind. His arms glided to the small of her back, and one of his hands slipped lower and cupped her butt. Their closeness felt more than nice, and she nuzzled her face in the crook of his neck where she inhaled the scent of him.

She needed to flush the bar's stink and the wolf's breath from her senses. Her nostrils filled with the faint, sweet smell of his stash and suddenly she missed that dirty old hippie, Leo. He'd gone through the mirror himself last year and made a life for himself in Fez's kingdom. Circles with him and Steven at the Fotohut were always hilarious, and she wanted to be in one now instead fighting thoughts of terrifying wolves.

Steven's dozing body wasn't enough to keep out the worst of those images. She tried to disrupt them with fantasies about her wedding—specifically, about registering for wedding gifts like designer curtains and Lalique toasting flutes, but wolves tore through Bloomingdale's in New York, crashed through the window of the bridal boutique, and bit into her throat.

Her blind eyes popped open. _No good._ She couldn't sleep, not with her heart racing.

She reached toward Steven's face. His sideburn fuzzed beneath her fingers, and she found his lips. She tapped them until he woke.

"You want me to talk?" he said, sounding half-asleep.

She kissed his bare shoulder. _Yes._

"Uh... seventh grade," he said after a moment. "See, I didn't torch Old Maine, but I did leave my mark before it burned down. I'd been getting a lot of flack from this one teacher..."

Jackie pressed her ear to his chest as he spoke. The deeper tones of his voice vibrated against her cheek and mingled with his heartbeat. She still had a lot of him left to enjoy, and it comforted her.

"My music teacher, Mr. Silver, was a total asshole," he said. "Kept kicking me out of class 'cause I made it interesting. I played Hendrix and Clapton riffs on the glockenspiel when we were supposed to be playing this lame-ass Christmas music for the holiday pageant..."

"Of course," she said with a silent laugh, and it settled into a smile. _Always the rebel._ He couldn't help himself.

"So I convinced about two-thirds of the class to rise up and revolt," he continued. "I showed Kelso, Donna and Forman how to play 'Smoke on the Water,' and we showed the rest of the class. When we got on stage to play 'Rudolph' or 'Jingle Bells' or whatever the fuck song it was, we played it for ten seconds then broke out Deep Purple."

He patted Jackie's butt and let out a chuckle. "Man, Mr. Silver was so pissed. He was having a freakin' spasm." His voice shifted to a higher, more frenzied pitch. "'No, no! This is not what I taught them. No! Oh, my God!'

"Then He grabbed me by the ear and dragged me off stage, but I shouted, 'Rock and roll will never die! Merry Christmas, Wisconsin!' Yeah, it was Forman-like, but whatever. The maroons in the audience thought it was part of the show."

Jackie's smile hadn't left her lips, though she was falling asleep. Steven launched into another tale about Fez and some firecrackers, and she snuggled deeper into his arms. Hearing his stories was... well, incredible. They were parts of his life he'd never shared with her before.

More importantly, though, listening to his voice without the distraction of his face—she heard what he truly sounded like, maybe for the first time. Michael's voice always sounded the same, _excited,_ whether it was about getting his favorite Popsicle flavor or the Packers losing. But Steven's was startlingly different. She'd always thought his voice was a little stiff, a little distant except in rare moments where he softened it up just for her.

But now, as he told her about Fez's naked butt and his ripped pants dangling from a tree, she heard all the subtle inflection he put into his tone, the emotion. He expressed a lot more than Michael—a lot more than most—when he spoke. She'd just been too deaf to hear it before.

Tears filled her eyes but didn't fall. She kissed Steven's chest then his neck, nothing sultry or inviting. Just gentle pecks, and he stroked the back of her hair.

"You okay?" he said.

"Uh-huh," she said, though he couldn't hear it, and pressed a kiss into his heartbeat.

* * *

Eric woke before Donna. His lit arm was laying beneath him, numb again, and he sat up to take a look. The flare-bug venom remained below his shoulder, which meant it hadn't progressed since yesterday. A good sign, but having a useless appendage flapping around was extremely uncomfortable.

Morning sunlight washed their room in gold, and he hopped off the bed. He jerked his body back and forth, twisting himself so his lit arm would swing, and slowly his fingers regained feeling.

"Eric?" Donna was awake now and staring at him.

"Just practicing my dance moves, Donna." He continued throwing his body around the room.

She seemed to buy it. She lay back down on the bed, only to leap off it a second later and rush to him. She reached for his lit arm, but he swung it away.

"Don't touch it." He didn't want her to get zapped. She'd made that mistake once and needed minutes to recover. Something in the venom made his skin electric or caused magic shock.

"Right." She examined the arm with only her eyes. "That doesn't look too much worse."

He wiggled his fingers. They were tingling. "I thought the same thing."

After washing up, they searched for Fez and Kelso in the statehouse. They came up empty, and in the dining room, Jackie exploded into a silent rant. Her fists banged the table.

"Jackie," Hyde said beside her, "I got no idea what you're saying, but I agree with every damn word." Then he turned to Eric and Donna. "We gotta find 'em, but I'm not bringing Jackie out there, not with a freakin' wolf in town."

Eric sniffed the air. The distinct smell of pork arrived before the attendants bringing their breakfast did. Plates full of plump sausages and warm, fruit-filled muffins enticed him to sit down, but Donna yanked him back up.

"Eric, we have to speak to the mayor." She dragged him toward the door.

"But—but, Donna! Breakfast!"

"You'll eat later."

"At least let me have a—"

"Later!"

She dragged him to Town Hall without so much as a sausage. The opulence of the place—of the whole town—struck him as strange. The walls' crown molding glittered as if it were made of ground-up pearls. The crystal chandeliers sparkled like diamonds. And how many hands had worked on those tapestries of Brave Jack defeating the Giant? It was remarkable that Bean Town's economy had rebounded so quickly after the Troll invasion.

The receptionist from yesterday was missing from her desk. Missing, too, was the bejeweled beanstalk sculpture. Maybe she'd broken it, but in her place was an Elf. Translucent wings jutted from her back, and her sharp features looked even sharper as she sucked on some kind of candy.

"Hi," Eric said. "We're King Fez's friends. Could we speak with the mayor?"

The Elf smacked her tongue, "Yeah..." then held the piece of yellow candy between her teeth. "I'm a friend of King Fez, too. Where's your coat of arms?"

"Well, I have this coat," he grabbed the lapel of his coat, "and these arms," he displayed his arms, "though one is kinda weird lately."

" _No._ If you say you're a friend of the King, then you must be nobility of some sort. I need your—"

Thearl entered from the hallway. He interrupted the Elf's cranky response by greeting Eric and Donna enthusiastically. He shook their hands and said,. "Mr. and Mrs. Forman, so great to see you. Have you been enjoying your stay in our humble town?"

"It's been terrific," Eric said, "but we need to find our frie—King Fez and Kelso the Valiant. We haven't seen them since the Tasting Fair."

Thearl's spectacles glinted in the chandelier light, and he waved dismissively. "Oh, I'm sure they've just been enjoying the local affection. They are quite beloved around here."

Donna crossed her arms and widened her stance. "Yes, I'm sure. But King Fez has a very important meeting he must get to. And we really have to be getting on our way."

"I understand," Thearl said. "Though I'm certain they both know what their schedule is, I'll see what we can do to send them a message."

Eric crossed his arms, too, and matched Donna's stance. She projected strength. He wanted to do the same. "So you're gonna send out your legions to find them?" he said.

"I'll send out as many men as we can spare. What is it you want written in the message?

"That they're to—" Donna began to say, but Thearl slammed the receptionist desk. The Elf's head popped up. She'd been busy reading a Bean Town tabloid.

"Write this down, Sheefra!" Thearl said. Then, as if his show of authority had been too much for him, he averted his gaze and adjusted his silver cufflinks. Sheefra pulled out a fresh piece of paper and dipped a quill into a bottle of ink. Thearl must have seen it from the corner of his eye because he said to Donna, "Please, continue."

Donna uncrossed her arms and gestured as if she were talking to their friends directly. "King Fez and Kelso the Valiant, get your asses to the statehouse, _pronto!_ Or I'm gonna kick your asses harder than Red ever kicked Eric's. Angrily yours, Donna."

Thearl seemed taken aback by her ferocity, but he recovered quickly., "Sheefra, make nine copies of that, please." He turned to Eric and Donna. "Is there's anything else I can help you with?"

"No," Donna said.

"Very good." Thearl bowed and disappeared down another hallway.

Eric and Donna left the town hall and walked onto a busy street. People were out in droves, maybe trying to catch a glimpse of their sovereign and his best soldier. If Thearl actually stayed true to his word, Fez and Kelso would probably be back at the statehouse in an hour or so. At least, that was what Eric chose to believe.

He offered Donna his normal arm as they turned onto a quieter street. She clasped her fingers over his bicep, but a woman's screams echoed through the air: "My necklace! My necklace!"

Across from them by a row of houses was the woman. Eric and Donna dashed to her, and a dark figure glided like a shadow into his peripheral vision. Eric angled his head toward it, but it vanished.

"What happened, ma'am?" A group of men clambered onto the scene, bumping into each other. They were the Bean Town Police, and they reminded Eric of _The Three Stooges_. Their dark uniforms and silver, bean-shaped badges did nothing to distract from their unprofessionalism.

The woman, barrel-shaped and middle-aged, touched her bare clavicle. "A thief! A thief stole the necklace right off my body!"

"Did you see what he looked like?" an officer said.

The woman shook her head. "No. It happened so fast. Please, do something! That necklace was given to me by my late husband."

"That's the seventh this week," another officer whispered. "It's getting wor—"

The first officer slapped him, shutting him up. They _really_ reminded Eric of _The Three Stooges._ "We'll see what we can do, ma'am," the officer said.

"Hey, I saw a suspicious— _something_ go that way." Eric pointed where the dark figure had gone.

The officers glared at each other, as if they were concerned. "Thank you, sir," one of them said and snatched the collars of the other two. He hauled them off in the direction Eric had pointed.

"What the hell was that all about?" Eric said a few moments later. He and Donna were out of the woman's earshot and on their way to the statehouse.

Donna shrugged. "Who cares? We've got enough to deal with."

* * *

Eric was used to sitting in a room and doing nothing productive. But that was back home in the safety of his basement, where the most he worried about was his dad walking in on a circle. But here, after hours in the statehouse's study, his nerves were frayed. He would have helped the Bean Town police search for Fez and Kelso, but Donna didn't want him out there.

It had been a long day of waiting. Earlier, Hyde had snooped through every room in the house. He found a bunch of kids' games stashed in a trunk upstairs, so the four of them—Eric, Hyde, Donna, and Jackie—played _Catch the Chicken_ and _Tell Us the Tale,_ hoping Fez and Kelso would interrupt them with their arrival. No such luck, not even during dinner, and now everyone was back in the study again, sitting on the carpet.

Eric munched on those fruit-filled muffins from breakfast. His appetite hadn't shrunk, even with a death sentence inching up his arm, but he would've gladly tossed the muffins to have sex with Donna. They hadn't done it in days, and technically they were still on their honeymoon. Sadly, though—and understandably—she wasn't in the mood.

"We gotta get out of here, man. This feels like prison," Hyde said. He'd abandoned their game of _Blow the House Down_ and paced the study. "I'm gonna go to the mayor my own fucking self and—"

"The town hall closes by dinner time," Donna said. "And we don't know where the mayor lives."

Hyde stopped his pacing. "So? One of the stiffs roaming this house has gotta know."

"Yeah?" Eric said. "And what are you gonna say to the may—OW!" A sharp pain shot up his lit arm and into his neck. "H—holy shit." He grasped the curve of his shoulder and shut his eyes. Never in his life had he experienced pain like this, and he couldn't fight when someone pulled off his coat and unbuttoned his shirt. He'd kept his lit arm hidden to shield Donna and Hyde from—

"The light!" Donna said. "Eric, it's spread past your shoulder!"

He forced his eyes open and looked down at his chest. The outer edge of his right peck was glowing brightly, but the pain began to subside.

"That's it," Hyde said. "The good times are over, man. If I have to search every damn house, I'm gonna find—"

A door outside the study slammed opened, followed by a couple thuds. Donna helped Eric to his feet, and Hyde lifted Jackie onto his own back. They charged from the study into the front hall, and Kelso—pale as ever with hair plastered over his forehead—limped toward them. He appeared completely devastated. His clothes were askew, his eyes were red, and his cheeks were streaked with tears.

Eric ran up to him, shouting, "Kelso, where have you _been?_ "

Kelso sniffled and blinked a few tears from his lashes. "My life is over, man."

"It's about to be," Hyde said, and Donna held him back.

"What's wrong?" she said.

Kelso gazed down, not at his feet but at the crotch of his pants. "I don't... I don't think I like sex anymore."


	32. Pushing the Limit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 32  
 **PUSHING THE LIMIT**  


Everyone pestered Kelso about the last two days, even as he trudged up the statehouse stairs and fell onto his bed. "Where's Fez?" they said. "Where were _you?_ " But he didn't want to talk about it. He had a headache. His leg hurt. He just needed some sleep, and, _man,_ did he sleep—even as they tried to wring information out of him. Nothing was gonna keep him awake. His body was too worn out.

But Hyde shook him awake the next morning. "Kelso—" Hyde said, and Kelso opened an eye to a sunlit room.

"Leave me alone, Hyde," Kelso muttered and tried to bury his face in the pillow, but Hyde wouldn't let him.

"We've been stuck here for three damn days! We gotta get moving! Where the hell is Fez?"

"I dunno."

Hyde yanked Kelso into an upright position. "What do you mean you don't know? Aren't you his freakin' bodyguard?"

" _I don't know,_ okay? He demoted me to cadet after I snaked this really hot chick from him. And I didn't see him again after that."

"Damn it." Hyde let him go and sat on the bed. Then he pinched the bridge of his nose and didn't talk.

He seemed as miserable as Kelso felt, but Kelso was thankful for the quiet moment. He could barely think straight because his pounding headache was back. Not eating in the last twenty-four hours probably hadn't helped him any. Still, he wasn't the only one with problems. "Hyde," he managed to say, "how's Jackie?"

Hyde scowled. "Blind. Mute. How do you _think_ she's doin'?" But a second later, the scowl softened into a smirk. "She still looks better than you. You look like shit." He gave Kelso a pat on the stomach, "Get some breakfast," and left the room

Kelso stood up and went to the closet. A shower would've helped his headache, but this place only had a bath, and that would take too much effort. He pulled out some fresh clothes and put them on. He also put on his white, military-issue jacket with only one badge remaining. "Cadet Kelso". He hadn't been that in years.

He sat at the vanity and stared at himself in the mirror. A good-looking man like himself couldn't go too long without gazing at his own reflection. He and Jackie used to have a ritual when they were dating. They'd look at their reflections together in her mirror, and their combined hotness made them so horny they had to do it twice. He missed those days, back when doin' it meant something. But now he felt like never doing it again, and the way he looked—only _uggos_ would wanna do it with him.

His usually shiny hair was a pile of dullness. He snatched a silver comb from the vanity, and his shaky hand combed his hair. He really did look like shit, but he felt worse, shivery and a little stiff—like he had a fever and other stuff he didn't want to think about.

On his twenty-fifth stroke, the comb slipped from his fingers. It didn't clatter on the floor but fell into a small hole in the floorboards. _Damn._ He needed _thirty_ strokes for his hair to regain its former glory, so he knelt on the floor and stuck his eye into the hole.

Only darkness filled his sight, but the room below him should've been visible. "That's weird," he said. "Guess the hole doesn't go all the way through—ow!" Something hit him in the eye, and he backed away from the hole.

Moments later, the comb flew out of the hole and into his lap. He picked it up gingerly, "Okay..." then tossed the comb back into the hole.

It flew back out.

"Cool!" He laughed, and the pounding in his head faded to a light tap. Quality entertainment always soothed him. He threw the comb into the hole a few more times, and each time the comb shot back out. "This house has a bogle! Awesome!"

He ran out of the room and barreled down the stairs—he had to show everyone—and launched himself into the dining room where his friends and a table of food waited for him. "Hey, guys! This house has—pancakes!"

He sat down and piled his plate high with thick, buttery-smelling pancakes. He poured syrup all over them then stuffed a whole pancake into his mouth.

"Kelso," Donna said, "you're acting like you haven't in eaten in days."

"I haven't," he said after a long chew. "Not a lot. Been too busy."

Hyde stood from the table. His plate was mostly empty and coated in the remnants of syrup. Same with Jackie, Donna, and Eric's plates. They'd eaten breakfast already.

"Okay," Hyde said, "me, Forman, and Donna are gonna go find Fez. Kelso, you're stayin' with Jackie."

Kelso gave him a thumbs-up and continued to eat. Two chairs down, Jackie was scribbling something on her paper.

"Yeah, I know you want to," Hyde said to her. " Just—we'll be back, all right?" She scribbled something else down, and he chuckled. "I'll hold him down for ya, and you can go to town."

He must have meant Fez. _Good._ Fez deserved a beating for demoting Kelso so much.

"Kelso—" Hyde went over to him. He grasped Kelso's shoulder and whispered into his ear, "Take care of her."

"Don't worry. I was Captain of the Guard once."

Hyde squeezed his shoulder, a little too hard, before he released it. Then he, Eric, and Donna left him and Jackie alone. Kelso couldn't hear their preparations to leave the statehouse, but the front door slammed a little later.

He finished breakfast in no time, expecting Jackie to talk his ear off all the while. Then he remembered she couldn't speak. Why couldn't she have been mute during _their_ relationship? But he moved over a chair to sit next to her, and she shoved a piece of paper in his relative direction. It read:

"Michael, you have to tell me exactly what you're doing when you're doing it. You can't forget that I'm blind, you idiot. And it's very boring being blind, so let's go to the study and play something, okay? Steven found some games yesterday. Oh, and you have to pay close attention to me. I can't yell at you like I normally do, so PAY ATTENTION."

He nodded, but she didn't seem to notice. "Oh, right. The whole blind-thing. Okay, Jackie. I got it." He took her hand, which was soft and warm. During the last three days, he'd touched a lot of hands—but hers was a thousand times nicer than any of those, and he led her into the study.

"We're here," he said. He sat her down on a cushioned sofa while he looked through the games. They were spread out on a table. "Oh, _All the King's Horses._ I got that one for Betsy. Brooke says she really likes that one." He pushed the other games to the floor. Then he sat beside Jackie and set up _All the King's Horses._ "Yeah, I haven't been able to play it with the munchkin except once. She'll probably kick my ass the next time we do."

Half the horses were placed on the playing board when Jackie slid her hand over Kelso's knee. She rubbed it gently then passed him a piece of paper. She'd written something down: "Why do you sound so sad, Michael?"

"I sound sad?" he said, and she nodded. "I guess I do. Hey, since when did you care what other people sound like?"

She rolled her eyes, which was kind of creepy because that brought his attention to them. Her eyes were darting around like a... well, like a blind person. Hyde should've given her his sunglasses to wear, but she wrote something else down: "Sound is all I have, Michael."

"Right! Damn. Sorry... Man, this curse has really burned you. It's not even funny."

Jackie sighed. Then she reached up and brought his arm around her shoulders. Her body was as soft and warm as her hand, and she snuggled into his side. He had no idea what she was doing or _why_ she was doing it, but it felt nice... Maybe a little too nice.

"Talk to me, Michael," she wrote down. "Tell me what you've been doing the last few days. What did you mean last night about not liking sex anymore?"

"You really want to hear it?" he said, but she hesitated before nodding. "Okay, well, it started with this chick who had gumdrops on her nipples..."

* * *

Eric, Donna, and Hyde were in the mayor's office. Some of the gold letters embossed on the wall were missing. The Fourth Kingdom's motto now read, "May We Al Eat Can and Live ap ily Eve A ter." The Elf receptionist—Sheefra—was working today, too, and the beanstalk sculpture remained missing. Maybe the receptionist she'd replaced had stolen the letters, but Eric doubted it.

He'd spotted more of those strange, dark figures on their way to Town Hall. They'd vanished before he could really see them. The sky was clear, so they couldn't have been shadows cast by fast-moving clouds. Something was definitely rotten in the Town of Bean, and the mayor knew something about it.

Thearl, the mayor's High Assistant, had tried to block them from an audience, citing the mayor's "busy schedule," but Hyde could be very convincing. Thearl came across as a meek man, despite his height and broad shoulders, and one threat from Hyde had him shaking. Eric would've shone his lit hand into Thearl's eyes had it been necessary, but Thearl let the three of them into the office.

Thearl stood in the corner, and he stared at his golden pocket watch while Eric, Donna, and Hyde voiced their concerns to the mayor's shocked face. Why hadn't the police done their job? Surely, they were capable of finding one man in this small town.

"Yes, it does seem unusual, doesn't it?" the mayor said. He paced behind his desk and repeatedly smoothed down his silver sash. "His Majesty hasn't shown for three days, you say?"

"There's a wolf in town," Hyde said. "That got anything to do with it?"

"Perhaps. They haven't been very happy since Queen Gretel died, and King Fez has stewardship over her half of the Second Kingdom..." He stopped pacing and flourished with his hand. "We'll make every effort to find our king!

"You better," Donna said. "It wouldn't look very good if Bean Town was responsible for any harm coming to the Fourth Kingdom's sovereign."

The mayor frowned. "No. No, indeed." He stepped from behind the desk and addressed Thearl. "Rally the guard and the police. Have every house, shop, and building in Bean Town searched!"

Thearl nodded and put away his pocket watch. He was half out of the office when Eric clasped his shoulder. "Yes?" Thearl said.

"Could I have the address of Elf-shot Evanthe?"

"Who?" Hyde said.

"The woman who..." Eric traced circles by his temple, "when we first got here."

Thearl opened his mouth, but the mayor answered for him. "I'm afraid not. She's very ill, and as Mayor, I have a duty to protect my citizens from any harm."

"I don't want to hurt her," Eric said. "I just want to—to give her this." He took one of Laurie's seeds from his pocket and showed it to the mayor. "She said she lost hers."

"My goodness..." Thearl adjusted his oval spectacles, and his eyes seemed to mist over. "That's a very kind gesture."

"But it would do no good, I'm afraid," the mayor said. "Being Elf-shot has left her mind in an ever-degrading state of disrepair."

Eric closed his fingers around the seed. "I know, but I'd really like to give this to her—"

"On behalf of _King Fez,_ " Donna said.

The mayor smoothed down his sash again. "If it were Sir Kelso making the request, I would not refuse, but I'm afraid you have no station here."

"You seem to be afraid of an awful a lot," Hyde said.

"All right, the mayor is very busy," Thearl said. "Very busy, indeed." He herded Hyde, Donna, and Eric from the office. "We have much work to do if we are to find our king."

"If you don't," Donna shouted, "his own guard will hear of—"

The office door slammed behind her. It shut Thearl inside and the rest of them out.

Outside the town hall building, Hyde said, "They're hiding something, man."

"You think _everyone_ is hiding something," Donna said.

"Because they _are_. The mayor's lackey's in there," Hyde pointed to the arched entryway, "instead of out here, rounding up the guard."

Donna shrugged. "Maybe they're waiting until we leave."

"So let's leave," Eric said, and they did, but he glanced at Bean Town's flag. It was flapping above the gleaming-white Town Hall. All the missing things, the weird shadows—what Elf-shot Evanthe had said _about_ shadows when they first got here. And now the mayor's caginess about Fez...

Maybe Hyde was right. Maybe the mayor _was_ hiding something. Or, maybe, the flare-bug venom had finally reached Eric's brain

* * *

Michael had told Jackie his disgusting-but-sad tale of his last few days, about how hours of non-stop sex became less and less fun. They'd worked out a good system of communication. If he started to say something she didn't want to hear, she pinched him, and he moved on. Of course, listening to her ex's romps with Bean Town skanks was _not_ her idea of a good time, but anything was better than silence.

She'd made sure to keep his arm around her, too. Being blind made her feel incredibly isolated, and she needed that physical contact. She'd always relied on her visual impression of people to judge them, how they looked, how they dressed, how their faces moved when they spoke. But now her best means of assessing people were gone. She had to trust that her friends and Steven weren't going to hurt her. It wasn't a natural thing for her to do anymore, to trust, but what choice did she have?

"I was standing behind her, holding her legs under my arms," Michael said, continuing his story. "She raised herself on the ottoman with her hands. She totally looked like Supergirl, like she was flying. Then I shoved my—"

Jackie pinched him, and he yelped in pain.

"Damn, Jackie! You keep making me skip over the best parts!" He jostled around, as if he were rubbing where she'd pinched. But she glared blindly at him and gestured for him to get to the point. "Fine," he said. "What I'm saying here is that nailing her felt good... _really_ good to Pink Floyd, but it didn't matter to the rest of me, and it's really freaking me out here!"

Jackie patted his knee and leaned her head against his shoulder. In spite of himself, Michael was growing up. That was what his troubles meant. Even if he didn't understand it now, he would soon.

She giggled silently, never thinking she'd see the day—not that she was actually seeing it. She was _hearing_ it, but whatever. Michael Kelso wanted more from a girl than sex.

"Hold on a sec, Jackie." Michael withdrew from her then cupped her upper arms. He was being really quiet but getting closer, and his sweet-smelling breath warmed her face.

"Micha—" she said, but the familiar press of his lips cut her off. They tasted like syrup, and he moved them forcefully against her mouth. His tongue shoved itself between her teeth—never any subtlety with him—so she returned the favor and chomped down.

"Ow!" he shouted, and she bit down on his tongue harder. "Ackie. Ackie, eggo! Ow!"

"Kelso? Get the fuck off her, man!"

Jackie relaxed her jaw and pushed Michael away. Steven had returned. His heavy footsteps vibrated on the carpeted floor, and Michael grunted seconds later.

"What's happening?" she said, but no one answered. Michael's body had completely disappeared from her touch. Steven must have pulled him up.

"What the hell, man?" Steven said. "I leave you to take care of her, and you make a Goddamned move?"

More footsteps and more of Michael's grunting, and the sounds were growing distant. Jackie stood up and uselessly shouted for Steven to stop.

"Hyde!" That was Donna.

"Stay with Jackie," Steven growled, and the study's door slammed shut.

Jackie slumped onto the sofa. Michael was as good as dead.

* * *

Hyde held Kelso firmly in a headlock and dragged him past Forman in the front hall. "What are you—?" Forman said, but his question went unanswered as Hyde used Kelso's own body to shove open the statehouse door.

"Sit," Hyde said. Stairs led up to the statehouse's entrance, and he tossed Kelso onto them. He wanted to kill the sonuvabitch, but Kelso had earned the benefit of the doubt. Saving Hyde's life last year in Little Lamb Village had done that.

"Damn, Hyde!" Kelso massaged the nape of his neck and stared up at him. "I was just trying to see if she could tell who was kissing her."

Hyde sat down on the stairs and frogged Kelso's thigh, the one the Duergar had stabbed. The scream that followed meant Hyde's punch had hurt. _Good._

"Why are you so mad," Kelso said, "'cause you know I'm the better kisser?"

"First, you're not." Hyde counted on his fingers, mostly to keep from slugging him again. "Second, she's my fiancée, you asshole. Third and most, she's really vulnerable right now. You try to pull a stunt like that again, and I'll pry out your eyeballs and give 'em to her as earrings."

That elicited no reaction from Kelso. He sat on the steps quietly. Then, after a silent minute, he said, "What, you believe me?"

"It was a stupid thing to do," Hyde said, "and you're stupid, so... yeah." But a small smile he didn't like formed on Kelso's lips. "What?"

"You shouldn't have believed me." Kelso's smile thinned out. "You're probably gonna pound me for this, but you know what? I don't even care 'cause I feel like shit anyway. I kissed her 'cause I needed to know."

Hyde's jaw and fists clenched, but he held back his fury. Zen was nowhere to be found. This was pure willpower. "Needed to know _what,_ Kelso?"

"If it's me or the girls."

Hyde rammed his knuckles into Kelso's thigh, and Kelso cried out. The first layer of Hyde's willpower had crumbled under the pressure of everything—the curse, Jackie's suffering, and the image of Kelso touching her. "Just get to the point!" Hyde said.

But Kelso was doubled over and hugging his leg. "I had so much sex, Hyde!" he whimpered. "Every kind you could dream of. These girls here, they let me do whatever I wanted! And they liked it! And... and..." He turned his teary face so Hyde could see it. "None of it mattered." His voice sounded hollow, like a fundamental part of him had shriveled.

"So you kissed Jackie because...?"

"Because she—" tears dropped down Kelso's cheeks, "because I love her."

"That's it." Hyde closed his fist yet again and drew back his arm. This time, he was going for Kelso's ugly mug.

"I'm not _in love_ with her," Kelso added quickly.

Hyde's arm lowered. "Okay..."

"I don't think I ever was 'cause I thought being in love meant you loved a girl, and then she let you _inside_ her. And I love Jackie, and she used to let me in—" Kelso shut his trap. Wise move because Hyde's fist was still closed.

"You kissed my girl because you love her," Hyde said, "but you're not _in_ love with her... What the hell are you talking about?"

"Well, Jackie didn't let me figure that out 'cause she almost bit my tongue off."

Hyde smirked. His chick never disappointed.

"You nailed a lot of chicks before Jackie, right?" Kelso said. He was still hunched over with his cheek pressed to his knee, but at least the tears had stopped.

"Yeah," Hyde said.

"And you liked it."

"What's not to like?"

"So when did you know you wanted more?" Kelso said.

Hyde shrugged. "When I got more."

"I don't get it." Kelso blinked the wetness from his lashes, and he finally sat up. "With Eric, man, it's easy. He's never been with anyone but Donna, and he really lucked-out there. _Really_ lucked out because without her, he would've ended up like Fez. But you—" He gestured to Hyde then back to himself. "You're like me."

"I'm nothing like you."

"Yeah, you are. You did Pam Macy."

"Everyone did Pam Macy."

"Okay..." Kelso brushed a shaky hand through his hair. "Okay, I mean you didn't like being stuck to one chick. And now you are. So how is it you're cool with that, huh? Don't you ever get bored? Don't you ever want to go out and fuck someone different? _Anyone_ different?"

"I used to get antsy about that crap, but..." Hyde sighed. "Nailing Jackie is..." He shut his eyes. This was not a conversation he wanted to have. Not with Kelso, not with anyone. And he didn't have his damn shades on, and if he put them on now, his discomfort would be obvious as hell anyway.

He glanced over at Kelso, who did not look well. Pale, sweating, and lost.

_Damn it._

"Okay, listen," Hyde said. "The reason having sex with Jackie doesn't get boring—besides the fact we're both really good at it—is all the stuff that _isn't_ sex. So when we do it, yeah, my dick's hard, but everything else is..."

He couldn't bring himself to say it, but he didn't have to because Kelso said, "Soft? Mushy? Lumpy?"

"Not lumpy. The first one."

"Yeah, okay," Kelso said, "but why?"

He sounded like a five-year-old, asking why the sky was blue, and that prompted Hyde to lean back on the stairs and gaze up at the day's very blue sky. Jackie loved that color... _Azure,_ she called it. His eyes were the same, she always said, and that looking at him on a rainy day made her feel like the damn sun had come out. But now she couldn't see that color—in his eyes or the sky—thanks to that fucking azure diamond on her finger.

"Hyde?" Kelso said. "How could nailing Jackie make you soft?"

Hyde hesitated, but he was already deep in it, so he said, "A few years back, me and Jackie went to a car show with Mr. and Mrs. Forman, and it was cool, you know?"

Kelso shook his head, as if he couldn't possibly know, and Hyde blew out a heavy breath.

" _She_ was cool," he said, "checking out the cars with me. Even knew her stuff on some of 'em, mostly about the colors they came in and superficial crap like that... but it was something." A grin rose on his lips, and he didn't bother to flatten it out. "And when I get home shit-tired from work—"

"You work hard enough to get tired from it?" Kelso said.

"You wanna hear this or not?"

"Sorry."

"Jackie can see it, man, how tired I am, but she talks her ass off anyway. And I don't hate it. Especially 'cause she tries to make me dinner afterward. _Tries._ She usually burns it.."A laugh coughed from Hyde's throat, followed by several more. "Or that time I got the damn flu this winter, and I felt like crap. I acted like a cranky asshole, but she still took care of me. Didn't even spit in the chicken soup."

Kelso scratched his cheek and squinted. His confusion seemed to have deepened. "So you think about all that when you're doing her?"

"No, man. Focus. It's the feeling that goes along with it. When we're fucking, I feel all that."

"Wait—dude, you have feelings?"

Kelso's question shocked Hyde from his thoughts, dumping ice water over the warm memories. "Look, when I'm with Jackie, man..." he ran a hand over his face, "I'm with _her._ All the good stuff that makes her hot, and all the crap that makes her abrasive, and all the other damn things I have no way of describing. No other chick could give me that 'cause no other chick is her."

"So you're saying..." Kelso's expression brightened, like he'd finally understood something, "you're happy you're nailing _Jackie._ Not that you're _nailing_ Jackie."

"Yeah. That sums it up."

"See, I've never had that."

"You never wanted it," Hyde said.

"Maybe I do now."

"Cool." Hyde stood up. All this talking about Jackie... he needed to get back to her. "But you gotta find your own chick."

"Hold on," Kelso said, and he stood before Hyde made it into the statehouse, "did you find Fez?"

"Nope," Hyde said simply and held the door open for him.

* * *

Eric was searching through the bookshelves in the study, but Donna had taken a page from Hyde's book and paced. She hoped Kelso was still alive. What the hell had he been thinking, trying to kiss Jackie? Jackie had fallen asleep on the sofa but not before writing Donna a dissatisfying explanation: "Even fat, I'm really sexy. Michael couldn't help himself."

Jackie's self-esteem seemed healthier, but at the price of Kelso's life? Donna knew better than to interfere when Hyde was pissed. He and Kelso had to work it out themselves, but if they both didn't show up alive in the next five minutes, she _would_ interfere. She couldn't cure Eric's arm or find Fez or break Jackie's curse, and all this helplessness was driving her insane.

"Hey, Donna," Eric said, "check this out!" He was crouched in a corner of the study, and she went over to him. A small hole was in the floor boards. He dropped a glass marble into the hole, and it shot back out. He dropped the marble again, and it flew out again. "What the hell is that?"

Donna smiled. At least she could answer his question. "A bogle."

"A what-el?"

"A bogle," she repeated. "Basically, the fairy-tale version of Hyde. They like to take up in houses and cause mischief. Steal things. Tangle your hair while you're sleeping, that kind of thing."

He dropped the marble into the hole again, "What do they look like?" and the bogle tossed it back up.

"Well, different fairy tales give different descriptions."

"Can they look like shadows?"

"I guess so...".

Eric stood up. "Great, great."

She had no idea what he meant, but he headed for the study door, which opened just as he reached it. Hyde and a seemingly unhurt Kelso walked inside, and Eric patted both their shoulders. "I think I'm onto something, fellas!"

He rushed past them into the front hall, and Donna chased after him. "Eric, where are you going?"

"I'll be back!" he said and left the statehouse. She followed him outside, but he'd sprinted away. He was already a tiny dot by the time she figured out his direction.

She plunked down on the statehouse stairs and stared glumly at her boots. Damn him and his ridiculously hot, well-muscled, biomechanically efficient body. She missed him being a dainty string bean. It was so much easier to pin him down then.


	33. Infested

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 33  
 **INFESTED**  


Eric followed every shadow he spotted until long after the sky began to darken, but they'd all been attached to people. His stomach ached with hunger, and his lit arm had gone numb again. It dangled uselessly at his side, but he'd keep working on his hunch until he ran out of ideas. He'd seen no sign of Fez or anyone official like the Bean Town guard—or those bumbling police—out searching for him. Hyde had to be right; the mayor was definitely hiding something.

Thearl, though, seemed sympathetic about Elf-shot Evanthe. That haunted, disheveled woman had to know something. Maybe Thearl would do Eric a favor and bring him to her house... without letting the mayor in on it. So Eric gave up the shadow search and headed toward Town Hall.

He hoped to catch Thearl before he got home, but he made it as far as the town square—to the statue of Fez—when he heard Thearl's voice cry out, "No! Let it go, you filthy—"

A shadow with a glinting, golden heart slinked past Fez's statue. It must have stolen Thearl's pocket watch.

"Needles and pins, this town is lousy with bogles!" Thearl shouted and ran past Eric. He was chasing the shadow, and Eric followed

Finally, he was getting somewhere.

* * *

"Damn him," Donna said and clutched her fork. She was sitting in the statehouse dining room with her friends. Everyone had finished their lunch but her. She was too busy stabbing her filet of sole, pretending it was Eric's face.

Kelso stood from the table and scratched his thigh. "I'm—I'm gonna go..." His face was sweaty, but he'd buttoned his jacket to his chin, as if he were cold. His teeth chattered, too. "I'm g—gonna go look f—for them. Fez and—and Eric. Th—th—they have to be—"

"What the hell's wrong with you?" Hyde said. "You keep scratching your leg and shivering."

"Oh, one of th—those chicks gave me a m—massive hickey," Kelso said, "and then the—the rest saw the spot and—and kept adding to it."

Hyde was standing now, and he yanked on one of Kelso's belt loops. "Lemme see."

"N—no, Hyde!" Kelso tried to push him away, but his effort had no strength behind it.

Hyde shoved Kelso onto a chair. He removed Kelso's shoes, unbuttoned Kelso's pants and whipped them off. Then Hyde winced and backed away. "Shit..."

Donna rushed over to them, and her eyes shut upon seeing Kelso's exposed leg. A crusty, purple wound was lodged in Kelso's thigh. A few maggots were crawling in it, gnawing at his inflamed flesh.

She gagged. It was a good thing she'd skipped lunch. "Kelso, what—?"

"Those Duergar," Kelso whimpered. "They cut me 'cause I called them 'Dwarves'."

"You let it get all infected, man!" Hyde said. "Jackie, stay put."

Donna turned around. Jackie was out of her chair and moving closer. "Yeah," Donna said. "You're lucky you're blind." She faced Kelso again and accidentally glimpsed his fist-sized wound. The sight made her stomach clench. "Why didn't you say something?" she said.

Kelso frowned. "I thought it would go away on its own. Hyde was cut, too, but he's only got a scar now. What'd you do?"

Hyde traced a finger over his left bicep. "I don't know, man. It just healed."

"Okay, this is bad." Donna kept her gaze on the white carpet, but bile was rising into her throat. The memory of Kelso's wound was inescapable. "You need the doctor, Kelso. I'll just have to find her."

She ran out to the front hall and out of the statehouse, imagining blue swimming pools, fields of tiger lilies, anything but the maggoty mess Kelso's leg had become. He really needed that doctor, and if Donna found Eric on her way, he was going to need one, too.

* * *

Eric pursued Thearl all the way to the outskirts of Bean Town, where dirt and trees replaced paved streets and houses. The bogle had disappeared into a lake surrounded by the woods, and Thearl looked as though he'd throw a cursing fit.

Eric stepped from behind a spindly elm and waved his normal hand. "Hey, Thearl. What's up?"

Thearl jumped backward. "Wh—why, hello, Mr. Forman."

Eric moved closer to him. "That's an interesting lake. What's this about Bean Town being 'lousy with bogles'?"

"Yes." Thearl adjusted his spectacles and turned to the lake. "W—well, you see..." He glanced back at Eric. "Don't just stand there, young man. Come closer." Eric did so but was careful not to get too close, and Thearl gestured to the water. "See how the shadows move there?"

Upon closer inspection of the lake, Eric realized it wasn't filled with water at all but writhing darkness.

"Bogles," Thearl said. "That's where they gather, where they bring all the things they've stolen."

"So I was right!" Eric said. "Elf-shot Evanthe was right. They stole her seed, didn't they?"

"Y—yes. That's it exactly."

Eric smiled in triumph. He was on a winning streak, and sharing more of his suspicious couldn't hurt. "The mayor's been trying to keep this from Fez, hasn't—"

Pain flared in his shoulder. It shut him up and dropped him to his knees. The light was expanding across his chest, slowly and agonizingly. "God—damn it!" he hissed, less from pain than from anger. Did the flare-bug venom have to be spreading now? He'd finally done something clever, and he couldn't enjoy it.

But his left fingers dug into the dirt, and he breathed short, panting breaths. He had to finish this.

"Don't—don't you think," he said to Thearl, "your king would've been interested in this... 'lake' from—from the start?"

"Yes," Thearl said. Then he stuck his hands beneath Eric's arms and lifted him to his feet. "Let's go speak to the mayor."

* * *

The Nine Kingdoms were a freakin' death trap, man, and Hyde wanted out. But with the curse and Forman's light poisoning, Fez being missing, and now Kelso's rank wound, there would be no leaving. He could never Goddam leave. He'd dragged Kelso to the study and made him lie down on one of the sofas. Kelso's pants were back on—Hyde had seen to that.

"Why aren't you laughing at me?" Kelso said. "You should totally be burning me right now. I'd be burning you."

But Hyde ignored him and sat on a sofa with Jackie in his lap. A snooze would've been nice, but Kelso insisted on yapping.

"If you don't burn me, that means this is serious, and I don't want it to be, man!"

"You want me to burn you, Kelso?" Hyde said after a half-hour of it. "Fine. You're a fucking idiot."

"Thank you," Kelso said.

Jackie poked Hyde's chest and frowned.

"What?" Hyde said. "He thanked me."

She sighed and wrote on her paper, "You're upset."

"No, I'm pissed. There's a difference."

She wrote something else down. "Talk to me, baby."

"Not now."

Jackie quit writing and leaned back against his chest. He pressed his lips to her temple. A lingering kiss was the best he could give at the moment.

Donna returned with the doctor twenty minutes later. The doc was a short, plump woman who looked about Mrs. Forman's age. She toddled up to Kelso and put her leather bag on a table. "Off with your pants," she said.

"God! What is it with the chicks here?" Kelso said and sat up. "All they want is Pink Floyd."

"She's the doctor, you moron!" Hyde said.

"So we're playing doctor? Hey, baby..."

The doc placed the back of her hand on Kelso's forehead. "He's delusional with fever. Take his pants off."

Hyde looked at Donna, and Donna said, "I'm not doing it."

"Fine, but you owe me." He patted the side of Jackie's butt, and she got the signal to get off his lap. His hands had touched Kelso's pants enough today, but he yanked them off again. Kelso's wound looked as nasty as ever. The burrowing maggots were a nice touch. Forman and Fez were missing out.

"You've got quite the infection there, Sir Kelso," the doc said.

"Have you seen something like it before?" Donna said.

The doc nodded. "Oh, yes. Duergar bites crop up occasionally. People who wander into the Ninth Kingdom, thinking they'll find their fortune, and come out with only a bit of nastiness like this to show for it."

"I wasn't bitten," Kelso muttered. "I was stabbed. 'Stab a Kelso,' the Trolls say. I'm famous."

The doc grabbed her bag from the table and rummaged in it. "That is what we call Duergar wounds, Sir Kelso. 'Bites'. There is only one cure for them."

"But there is a cure?" Donna said.

"Certainly." The doc pulled out a handful of medicinal moss and packed the wound.

Hyde gestured to what she was doing. "So he's gonna be okay?"

"Oh, no," the doc said. "He's in the Deadly Swamp right now. This will merely clear his wound of the maggots and give him some relief from the fever. The only cure for a Duergar bite is a kiss of true love."

Kelso lay back down on the sofa. "Is that the name for some kind of drink?"

The doc offered a weak smile. "I'm afraid not, Sir Kelso."

Small but powerful hands groped at Hyde's back and found his left arm. Jackie. She brought her lips to his bicep and covered it with soft kisses. "Yeah, I remember," he said. "You pinched me right where the Duergar sliced me; then you did what you're doing now..."

His body tensed. Her kiss had healed his wound? Far out.

"Earth-to-Hyde." Donna snapped her fingers in front of his eyes. "You okay in there? Your face looked like stone for a second. Blinking is healthy."

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah... whatever."

The doc was busy wrapping Kelso's thigh with what looked like seaweed. "This will keep the moss in place and eventually absorb into your skin. It should help cut down on the inflammation."

"A kiss of true love?" Kelso said. He was whining. "Great. Where am I gonna get one of those in time?" Then he gasped. "Jackie! You love me, right? Doc, unwrap me. Jackie, kiss my leg!"

Hyde slid his arm around Jackie's shoulders and drew her away. "No way are her lips touching that crapfest you call a leg."

Jackie nodded and clung to Hyde's waist.

"You need to rest, Sir Kelso," the doc said and packed up her bag, "and to fall in love. I suggest you go to Kissing Town as soon as it's feasible.

"I can't." Kelso sat up again. "They ran me out for—for being too good-looking."

Hyde smirked. No, they'd run him off for breaking a magic mirror.

"I suggest you go anyway," the doc said. "It's your best chance at being cured. In the meantime," she removed a jar of moss from her bag and handed it to Donna, "he needs to pack his wound every few days. It should delay the spread of the infection for a while."

"Thank you, doctor," Donna said.

"Yeah, thanks, doc." Hyde kept his voice calm, but his insides were roiling. Kelso couldn't die from a cut, man. That would deprive Hyde the pleasure of kicking his ass.

The doc said her good-byes and toddled toward the study door, but Donna bolted after her. "Wait! Do you know of anything that cures flare-bug bites?"

The doc frowned. "If I did, I'd have a much larger house."

"Come on, Kelso," Hyde said after she left, and Jackie held onto his shirt. "Bedtime."

He grabbed Kelso under his arm. Donna took Kelso's other arm, and they hauled him up to his room. Then they dumped him onto his bed and shut the door. It was another damn delay, keeping them all here longer than they should've been, but Hyde wasn't the only one pissed.

"That little dumbass," Donna said. "I'm gonna kill him." She meant Forman. Her hands had balled into fists, and she paced the hallway outside the bedrooms.

"You want me to go look for him?" Hyde said, but Jackie tugged on his shirt. Her blind eyes were wide with fear.

Donna sighed. "No. I'll do it."

"Be careful," Hyde said. "Take a weapon."

Donna started down the stairs and muttered, "Every freakin' thing seems to be getting lost around here. Fez, my husband—my husband's sanity. What the freakin' hell? I'm gonna..."

Hyde listened until her voice faded. Then he turned his attention to Jackie. She was holding up a piece of paper. "I need a shower," it said. "So do you."

He chuckled. He'd gotten used to the smells coming off all of them, but a shower sounded nice. Too bad there wasn't one in this house. "They've only got a bath here, doll."

Her face with brightened with an expression he recognized.

"Yeah, who gives a shit? Okay. Let's go." He held her hand and led her past the bedrooms to the giant bathroom. It had a golden bathtub fit for freakin' royalty. This was gonna be fun.

* * *

The pain in Eric's chest and shoulder had diminished, and what remained was easy to ignore. He was having the second best meal of his life, bested only by the food he'd eaten in Little Lamb Village. Thearl had brought him to Town Hall and directly to the mayor's office.

"I was afraid of disappointing King Fez," the mayor had said privately, after heaping praise on Eric's observational skills. "I allowed bogles to take up residence in Bean Town, and I don't yet know how to rid us of them.

"I've known King Fez a really long time," Eric said. Mayor Bromley's praise was swirling in his mind, making him giddy. "He'll understand, and he'll want to do everything he can to help."

The mayor smiled briefly. "Quite so. I never should have doubted our fair sovereign. After all, he pardoned the Troll King's children for crimes far worse than mine. Yes... quite so."

Then, for opening his eyes to his folly, the mayor ordered that a feast be held in Eric's honor. So here Eric was in the town hall's grand dining room, with its silver and gold furnishings, and stuffing his face with venison. Cooked rare, of course. The juice was a little bloody, a little spicy, and almost as delectable as the meat itself.

Strange how eating nearly-raw meat made him feel more like a man. If only Red could have seen him, his clever son. He would've been proud.

* * *

Hyde thought the bath was going to be naughty-bad fun, but it turned out to be just bad. Jackie had wanted to wash herself. They'd sat in the golden tub together at opposite ends. He handed her the soap and the slippery pouf that passed for a sponge, but the pouf was too slippery. She kept dropping it in the water, and the last time she tried to find it, she accidentally squeezed his 'nads. He swore with pain, and she started crying. So he got out of the bath, found the pouf himself, and washed her.

He made sure to be gentle, but she got pissed anyway. She held her nose to tell him he stunk, which of course he did because he hadn't had a chance to soap-up yet. So he got back in the damn tub.

He cleaned the stink off his body and quit listening to her—even though he couldn't actually hear what she was saying. But he understood enough by the faces she made and how she gestured. He shampooed her hair while she pinched and slapped him. Scrubbed his own hair. Then he got them both out of the bath, toweled them off, and her foot collided with his shin.

A throb set into his leg, and he bent over to rub it away. Man, she could be violent—freakin' volatile—but it was a relief. She still had plenty of fight left in her despite everything she'd lost. She hadn't given up, which made him feel a hell of a lot stronger himself.

He straightened up when his shin stopped hurting, but Jackie had run off. Both the bathroom door and closet were open. One of the complimentary robes was missing from the rack. He put one on himself and went looking for her. She was in their room, sitting on the bed and writing something down. He glanced at the paper and watched as she wrote, "I'm not talking to you."

"You haven't talked to me in days," he said with a smirk she couldn't see. He hoped she'd take his teasing well.

She didn't.

She huffed and ripped the piece of paper to shreds. Then she lay back on the bed, crossed her arms over her chest, and closed her eyes.

He sat down beside her. "You taking a nap?"

No response. Not even a nostril twitch.

"Oh. So you're dead. 'Cause you kind of look like Dracula right now."

Jackie's eyes popped open—that had done it—and she rolled onto her side. She whapped Hyde repeatedly on any body part she could reach. He didn't stop her, but she gave up after a minute. Then she found her paper and crayon on the bed. "Leave me alone," she wrote.

"Why?"

She wrote something else. The letters were thick and rough on her paper. "Just do it, okay?"

He didn't want to. "Fine. But I'm gettin' you for dinner—'cause we're all still gonna be here."

She threw up her hands, her way of saying, "Whatever." He knew better than to argue, and he left her without another word.

* * *

It was already dark out, but Donna wouldn't return to the statehouse without her husband. _Her husband._ It still felt weird to call him that. They'd been married barely over a week, and he'd already kept two secrets from her. The first was about his sister's spirit being at the wedding, and the second secret: whatever had caused him to rush off without her.

She didn't really know where she was, either. She paused her search and took in her surroundings. The woods were behind her, but as long as Bean Town buildings rose into the sky up ahead, she felt relatively safe. But she needed her husband with her again—not just in body. He had to come back from whatever place he'd drifted to after Laurie's death.

_Damn._ Tears had forced their way out of her eyes.

She blinked them away. She never freakin' cried—except here, in the Nine Kingdoms. Her hand closed around the hilt of her rapier as she continued on her way. Hard as steel, that was what Eric needed her to be. Strong so he could come back safely... to himself.

* * *

Eric stretched out on a lush divan and closed his eyes. He was stuffed with food and breathing had grown difficult. His fully-fed stomach must've been pressing down on his lungs, but he was too lazy to turn onto his side.

"Everything all right, Sir Forman?" The voice belonged to Thearl.

_Sir Forman._ Eric liked the sound of that. But a mayor's assistant couldn't knight a person. Only kings could. Eric shrugged inside his mind. Who cared? "Just need a little nap," he said.

"Very good," Thearl said.

"Very good," Eric repeated with a sleepy smile, and as slumber took him, he tried to remember what he was forgetting.

* * *

Donna hadn't returned with Forman by dinner. She hadn't returned at all, and Hyde was ready to go to Town Hall to kick the mayor's ass. But his ass wouldn't be there to kick since the town hall was closed by now. Hyde went to Kelso's bedroom instead and woke him.

"What's going on?" Kelso said. Even with sleepy, half-open eyes, he looked a helluva lot better. Color had returned to his cheeks.

"Dinner," Hyde said at the door. He had someone else to inform of the same thing.

Jackie was awake in their room, and paper blanketed the bed. Looked like she'd written a damn novel, but she gathered all the paper to her chest when he stepped toward her.

"Go away," she mouthed at him.

"It's grub-time," he said, but she shook her head. "Sorry. Not taking no for an answer." He reached for her hand, but she backed up against the headboard.

His pulse tightened. He'd barely touched her.

"Jackie, are you afraid of me?"

She shook her head again, sadly this time. Her arms loosened their grip on the papers, and they slipped to the bed and onto the floor. He picked one up and read it: "I hate being helpless. I hate being helpless! I HATE BEING HELPLESS!"

The words were scrawled all over the paper in different variations, in different sizes. He picked up another piece, and it was the same. It was the same on all of them. The crayon had ripped through to the other side on some.

She was screaming.

"Jackie, there's an easy solution," he said, and she shook her head a third time.

It wasn't stubbornness that drove her to wear the ring. He trusted that now. It was determination. She was determined to keep him safe, as long as she could.

He shut his eyes. When he opened them again, he said, "Scream into me."

She angled her head, like she was curious.

"Yeah, come on." He clasped her hand, and she didn't fight him as he drew her off the bed. "Scream. Shout. Hit if you gotta. Just—you can't keep that crap in there."

She glanced up at him with an arched eyebrow, as if she could see him. It was an annoyed expression, and he didn't need her to write down what she was thinking.

" _You_ can't keep that crap in there," he said. " _I_ can. I've had lots of practice. So..."

Jackie took him up on his offer. She grabbed onto his shirt with both hands, twisted her fists into the fabric and yanked him close. Her body swelled with a deep breath and shrank as she let out a mute scream into his chest. She did it again and butted her forehead against him. He wanted to scream with her...

But he held her, just as mute, while her noiseless outbursts degraded into silent, heaving sobs. Her tears dampened his neck, and his hands did what they could to sooth her by stroking her hair and back. Then someone knocked on their door.

"Fuck off," Hyde said.

"But, sir," a voice said through the door, "dinner is ready to be served." It was one of the statehouse attendants.

"Damn it." Hyde pulled away from Jackie. Her face was red and puffy and snotty from crying. He kissed her anyway, which elicited more quite sobbing from her. "Jackie..."

She looked at him blindly through tear-clotted lashes. She was saying something, and he made it out: "I'm gross. Don't kiss me."

"You're not gross. You're my w—" He stopped, damn thankful he'd caught himself before the word "wife" slipped out. He already thought of them as married—had done so for months—but a sentiment like that would make a dangerous weapon in Jackie's arsenal of manipulation. He planned on this curse being broken and for them to get officially hitched. He didn't need to give her something that could wreck them down the line.

But she hit his chest and mouthed, "What? What? I'm your 'what,' Steven?"

"You're my woman." He cupped her face and gave her lips another soft peck. Then he wiped her nose with a handkerchief. The dresser had a stash of them.

They went downstairs afterward to the dining room. Dinner was waiting for them. So was Kelso.

"All right, so we got no Fez, no Eric, and no Donna," Kelso said between bites of pork chop. "I'm telling ya, bogles stole them and are using them for sex."

"They do that?" Hyde said.

"I don't know. But if they steal me next, they'll wanna." Kelso scooped another chunk of pork into his mouth. He chewed it slowly, as if he were thinking something over. "I just don't have it in me."

From the way he was talking, Kelso seemed more like his old self. It was one thing Hyde could quit worrying about for now, and when dinner was through, Hyde asked him for a quick sword lesson.

"What for?" Kelso said.

"In case Forman and Donna ran into some trouble."

Kelso belched and patted his stomach, which made Hyde chuckle. Kelso was definitely feeling better. "You're gonna go out looking for them?"

"Is there another choice?" Hyde said, and Jackie squeezed his hand like a C-clamp. "Ja—Jack—damn it, let go!" She loosened her grip but didn't release him. "Man, is this what it's gonna be like when you're giving birth?"

This time, she did release him—in order to clap, and a wide grin spread across her face. She was beaming.

He hadn't seen her that happy in a while. It seemed to make the pain in his hand fade quicker until he realized why she looked so happy. "It was a hypothetical, Jackie," he said. "I'm not saying I want ki... You can't take that to mean..." But her smile refused to weaken. "Never mind."

"Hyde, you can't go out there now," Kelso said. "It's night time."

"So?"

"So if bogles really are bugging up this town, they'll be stronger at night. Believe me, from the stories I've heard, it's not pleasant when you get a bogle in your pants."

Hyde crossed his arms. "Okay, but what do we do, man? Just sit here on our asses while our friends get their asses handed to them?"

"Look, I'm feeling loads better." Kelso shifted his voice to a deeper, authoritative pitch. "In the morning, I'll just walk over to Town Hall and have me a conversation with the mayor. If he doesn't get his shit together, I'll bring all of Fez's guard down here, and then he'll really know what's it's like to... uh... to..."

Hyde uncrossed his arms, and a laugh tickled his throat. "You don't know how to finish that sentence, do you?"

"No, I don't," Kelso said with the same level of confidence, "but however it ends, it'll be bad!'"

"Yeah..." Hyde said. "Hey, will your underlings in the guard still listen to you without your rank?"

Kelso shrugged. "About as much as they did before."

* * *

Donna had wandered the outskirts of Bean Town all damn night, it seemed. She had no clue what the time was. It could've been eight o'clock or midnight, but all she cared about was finding Eric. It should have been easier to find him in the dark, considering his lightsaber arm. But nothing. No one in town claimed to have seen him, either, and she couldn't find him in the woods bordering the town.

She'd also lost sight of all the buildings except for one. It had a twisty, well-lit spire that reminded her of a glowing beanstalk. She didn't know what else to do, so she walked toward it. A paved path emerged in the dirt, and she discovered through the thinning trees that the spire was connected to an expansive palace.

"Fuck a duck, we've got luck," a woman said behind her.

Donna turned around. Two barely-dressed skanks, a blonde and a brunette, were gawking at her. Their gloved hands settled onto their generous hips.

"That was easy," the blonde said.

" _You're_ easy," the brunette said, and the blonde giggled.

Donna waved at them, uncertain of their intentions. "Um... hello?"

The brunette stepped up to her and touched her arm. The ticklish feel of her glove made Donna laugh.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing wandering the middle of the night?" the brunette said.

Instead of being pissed, like she should have been, Donna felt flattered. "You think I'm pretty?"

The blonde rubbed Donna's other arm, leaving traces of sparkling, purple powder on her skin. The ticklish feeling made Donna laugh harder as it spread from her arms to places higher and lower.

"Wolfsbane?" she blurted. No, that was blue and not sparkly. "Spain. I'd like to go to Spain. Eric and I totally should have gone to Spain for our honeymoon! Moon!" She bent over and pulled her pants down, underwear and all.

"She'll definitely give him some fun," the brunette sang and removed Donna's rapier from its sheathe.

"He wants a redhead," the blonde sang and pulled up Donna's pants. "We've got him one."

They brought her toward the palace, and Donna should have fought them, but the grip they had on her arms felt too good.. "Are you—are you..." _Hookers,_ she wanted to say, but just the thought of the word was hilarious. _Hook, hook, hoo-KER. Hook her..._

They'd hooked her, and she didn't hate it.


	34. Shallow Breaths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 34  
 **SHALLOW BREATHS**  


Three nights of sex, candy, and no responsibility... Yes, Fez was a happy king. The Bean Town brothel had wonderful accommodations, and he was stretched out in the most royal room, on a bed made entirely of cushions. The mirrored ceiling let him observe the action when the ladies were on top. Very erotic.

Brothels, of course, were illegal in his kingdom, but he cared little about his own laws at the moment. Whores kept rubbing purple powder on his little man, Pepé. He'd take a nap afterward then wake up to more whores and purple powder, and the sparkly stuff made him hornier than anything ever had.

But now he was cranky. It was all blondes and brunettes in this town, and they were all lily-white. He wanted some color, damn it! But none was to be found in this part of the Nine Kingdoms. So he requested a redhead. At least it would be different, and it was time for his request to be fulfilled.

"Where is my redheaded whore?" he shouted and shoved a lollypop into his mouth. "I have been waiting ten minutes, and Pepé is ready, and I demand a redhead!"

The bejeweled door to his room opened slowly, as if the brothel whores had heard him, and a giggling, half-naked redhead was shoved inside. Her long legs seemed familiar, as did those ample breasts...

"Donna?" Fez said. "You are my redheaded whore?"

"Oh, my God, Fez? I found you!" Donna launched herself forward, but she tripped on one of the cushions and fell on top of him. "We've—we've been looking for you for days!" she said between giggles.

Fez tried to keep his composure. Donna was his friend, the wife of one of his best friend's, and she was lying on top of his naked body. "Should we kiss?" he said.

"What?" She laughed harder then glanced down at Pepé. "Oh, God—" She rolled off him. "Fez! Put your—why is it... _eww!"_

"Hey, the other whores here love Pepé," he shouted. How dared she insult his little man, especially when it stood at attention for her. It looked so regal that way.

"I am _not_ a whore," she shouted back. "Fez, this freakin' purple stuff those skanks put on me—I'm horny, but I'm not a _whore,_ got it?" Then she looked herself over. "Although I am dressed like one."

She flew into another giggling fit, and the pasties covering her nipples glittered in the sconce light. No wonder Kelso always hit on her. She was incredibly sexy.

"Oh, shit," she said and cupped a hand over her mouth. "I told you I'm horny! I need to find Eric. I am so hor—No. I just need to find Eric." She grabbed Fez's shoulders with a grip that rivaled a Giant's. "Fez, he's missing!"

Fez sobered up a little at this information, and Pepé calmed down at Donna's scary Giant-like grip. "He is? Oh, we must find him. I've been so distracted. So happily, happily distracted..."

"Fez, we have to get out of here."

"That is going to be difficult."

"Why?"

"The door only opens when the whores want to open it, or after I... um... after Pepé finishes... and then I am too tired to go anywhere."

Donna frowned for the first time and let go of him. "Oh, no."

"Yes."

"Fez, they've been keeping you trapped here!" Her laughter was fading. She must have sobered, too.

"I guess they have," he said, and a grin snaked across his face. "But what a way to be trapped, eh?"

"Okay," she said, " _you_ have to get to your disgusting 'work'. And _I_ have stand by the door, stare at it, and cover my ears until you're done doing what makes that door open. Then I'm busting some heads." She giggled again. "Oh, those were _so_ the wrong words..."

"Donna," Fez flexed his fingers, "may I use your lovely ass as inspiration?"

She lowered her head against the door. "God help me."

"I'll take that as a yes."

* * *

The bed Hyde and Jackie shared, despite its physical comfort, gave him no solace. He lay on his side and held Jackie tightly against his chest. Her warmth was his only relief. Candles remained lit in sconces by the bed. He wanted to keep the room bright enough to read Jackie's lips.

She'd asked hm to tell her a story, just as she'd done every night in Bean Town. The one he chose to share, though, wasn't the happiest. She knew his uncle Chet had given him his favorite pair of boots. She just didn't know why.

"It was right before Chet got busted for theft," Hyde said. "He caught wind that one of his 'buddies' had ratted him out. Chet knew it would land him in prison for at least a dime, so those boots were his goodbye present."

Jackie turned around his arms. The story hadn't done the trick to get her to fall asleep, and she was frowning.

"Sorry," he said. "Let me figure out a funn—"

Her lips brushed over his mouth and shut him up. She kissed him, gently at first, then with growing intensity. His fingers wove into her hair, and he guided the rhythm of their lips, the depth of their tongues. This was what he needed, and she'd probably heard that in his voice. He didn't know how far she wanted to take it. They hadn't done much like this since she went blind, and he wouldn't push anything on her. But when her hand slid into his pajama bottoms, he got the message.

"Jackie, if you want me to stop—I don't care how far into it we are—pinch me."

He sat up and slipped off her nightgown. Yeah, she was heavier thanks to the curse, but her body would always be precious to him—simply because it was hers. His palms glided over her rounder stomach and larger breasts. He laid thick kisses on her neck, and she clutched at his hair. Usually, she'd be moaning his name by now. Probably was, voicelessly, if her thrusting hips told him anything. But he savored her silent response to his touch, and the taste of her pushed all the shadows from his skull.

He paused for a moment to look at her. Her eyes were closed, a little too tightly. He pressed a kiss by her ear. "You need me to quit?" he said.

"No," she mouthed. The light of the dying candles flickered over her lips. "I need all of you, Steven... closer."

"Okay, hold on a sec." He had to get one of those lambskin condoms. They were inside the dresser drawer, protected by thin sheets of silver.

Moments later, he was completely naked, except for his erection. It was sheathed in a condom and resting by her warm, waiting entrance. He was unsure what sex with her would be like now that she couldn't speak or see. He didn't want to hurt her, but she seemed insistent. Her legs wrapped around his waist and coaxed him inside.

He filled her slowly—to make sure she was all right—and kept his gaze on her face. Her breath grew rough at his first thrusts, but without her voice, silence jammed his mind like static.

Whenever they had sex, the majority of sound issued from her. He wasn't much for speaking, in general, and during a screw, he was even worse. He rarely released anything coherent. His soft grunts didn't count as words, but her voice always lit him up—beyond the declaration of her pleasure. It was her love, man. Her trust.

And now, as he drove himself into her, she gave him just as much. Her fingers raked up and down his back, raising gooseflesh. His wrists lay on either side of her head, and she kissed and sucked at his skin. The contact made him impossibly harder, soaking her deeper into his consciousness. She knew his favorite places to be touched, _how_ he liked to be touched. Her body was speaking the things her voice no longer could, and he heard it all, loud and clear.

But how long would _she_ be able to hear at all? The curse had already taken her sight. She could go deaf at any time, leaving her completely in the dark. His usual policy was to ration his most meaningful thoughts about her. He doled them out in small, spaced-out amounts. It was safer for their relationship that way, but he could no longer justify keeping them to himself. They belonged to her.

"Jackie..." he drew his hips away, and she laced her fingers behind his neck. "I don't—" He groaned, from both pleasure and frustration, as he plunged himself back into her warmth.

She was smiling full-on, a delighted-as-hell smile, and it made being inside her feel so much better than good. It also made speaking so much harder. He shouldn't have been doing this during sex, but he tried again.

"I've never... I've..."

Her thumbs ran over his sideburns and over his cheeks, and he groaned a second time as another wave of pleasure crashed into him. _Damn it._ This was too hard, man. He was too hard, and her touch was gentle, like nothing else he'd ever felt.

He slowed his strokes down, hoping it would help him say something, but speaking became impossible as she flooded his senses. Everything that she was leaked into his every cell. He'd never wanted to be that close to anyone, but she made it okay—made connecting worth the risk.

"Jackie..." he'd found his voice and lowered himself to his elbows. Their chests had no space between them, and their sweat-slicked bodies heated his brain. "You're just... you..." The words ebbed back into wordless, overwhelmed groans as his eyes fell shut. _Fuck,_ he had to spit this out, to give her this piece of himself before he couldn't anymore.

He maintained a steady rhythm between her thighs, but she was gripping the back of his damp curls. Her head tilted deep into the pillows. She was coming.

He kissed the exposed hollow of her throat until her grip on him loosened, and she gazed at him with blind but tranquil eyes. She looked so damn happy, and it sent ecstatic chills deep through his body.

"You surprised the hell out of me, doll," he finally managed to say, and he laughed into her lips. The sound was strange to him, a little embarrassing, but he left it alone. "Didn't... didn't expect you."

"Oh, Steven," she mouthed and cradled the sides of his face, "of course you didn't."

Then she drew him down for a tender kiss, destroying his rhythm. The pressure building up inside needed release. His body shuddered, and all thoughts spilled from him with his orgasm.

He pulled out of her, but their lips didn't part until they were both good and ready. He cleaned himself up afterward then returned to the bed. He wanted to hold her, to sleep, but she was sitting up and mouthing something. He couldn't make it out. The candlelight was too dim for that now, so he gave her some paper and a crayon. She wrote out two words, which he put up by the sconces to read: "Thank you."

His eyes narrowed. "For what?"

She wrote down three more words. "For loving me."

"No." He snatched the paper and crumpled it. Those five words had crushed whatever sense of peace he'd achieved. "Don't do that," he said. "Don't _thank_ me."

He pushed himself off the bed and toward the wall. Expensive-looking wallpaper stared at him. He could've torn it off, but his hand went to the nape of his neck and rubbed. It wasn't fucking charity he was giving her. He had no damn choice. He couldn't stop loving her even if he wanted to.

"Jackie," he said with his face inches from the wall, "you're the one who's..." _carrying the burden,_ but he couldn't bring himself to say it, so he tried something else. "I'm the one who should..." _be blind, going through this shit, not you._ He couldn't bring himself to say that either.

The words were there. His mouth could form them. His throat could give them voice, but his heart—his _shame_ —wouldn't allow it.

He strode back to the bed and sank down onto the comforter. Then he held Jackie's face between his hands. "You're not supposed to thank people for loving you, man. You just... You love 'em back if you feel it." He leaned in close and kissed her softly, but his kiss evolved into words: "I want you take that ring off."

She answered by snuggling into him, and they fell onto the pillows that way. He shut his eyes, feeling far from defeated, but she tapped his lips a moment later.

"Another story, huh?" he said. "You mean I didn't just tire you out?" Her hair brushed against his chin as a no. "Okay, uh..." He pulled the bed covers back over them and searched his memories, and he found an embarrassing yarn about Kelso. "In the eighth grade, Kelso's hand got stuck in his fly. He begged Forman to pull it out during math class..."

By the end of the story, Jackie was asleep. Her left hand was on Hyde's chest. Her fingers had been lazily stroking his chest hair... This was his chance.

His heart beat faster as he grasped the engagement ring. He tugged on it, but the ring wouldn't budge. He pulled harder, but the ring acted like it was glued to her skin. If he used any more force, she was sure to wake up, but... _screw it._ Her life was worth another kick to the 'nads.

He curled his fist around the ring and her finger—and yanked. She gasped breathily, sprang up, and her face contorted in pain. He didn't let go, though, and yanked again, earning him a smack to the head. Now he let go. Tears were in her eyes, and she shook her left hand as if it hurt. Then she sucked on her knuckle.

"Jackie, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

"You asshole!" she mouthed and returned to sucking on her finger.

"That ring, I don't think it's coming off. I don't know why, but it's stuck."

She glared at him blindly with a look that said, "You idiot." Then, as if to tease him—the worst fucking tease she'd ever pulled—she slipped the ring past her knuckle and pushed it up again.

"I don't get it..." He reached for her left hand, but she backed off toward the headboard. "I don't fuckin' get it," he said, and she crawled over to him. Her hands felt for his neck. She kissed him right beneath his jaw, one of his most sensitive spots. He closed his arms around her, shut his eyes against her hair, and she began to rub his back.

She was trying to comfort him.

"Damn it. Jackie..." He held her tighter. "I love you, all right?" He wanted her to remember what that sounded like, so he said it again. "I love you," and he repeated it until she fell asleep.

* * *

Donna didn't have to wait long for Fez to finish. In just a few minutes, the bejeweled door opened, and the sex-room no longer caged them. The hallway beyond seemed empty. Without looking behind her—because the sight could not have been pretty—she gestured for Fez to follow.

"But I am all tired and sticky."

"Fez! Come on."

"Ai, I can't. I just did."

She rolled her eyes. Fez was bad when he was just Fez. But whatever drug this den of skanks had used was making him so much worse. And she wasn't faring well herself. His words turned her on as badly as they disgusted her.

"Fez, if you don't get your ass out of this room, I'm gonna kick it out."

"So... you like my ass, eh?"

"No." She scanned the hallway, making sure it was clear, but one of those sluts could pop out any minute. "Fez, please!"

"Donna, you're giving me more needs."

"Oh, screw this." She turned around and immediately regretted it. Fez had started up again. "Kelso," she said through a sea of giggles. Damn it! Why was she giggling? They had to get out of here, and she managed to blurt, "Kelso's dying!"

"Kelso? Ai, no!" Fez let go of himself and ran past Donna into the hallway. She caught up with him, and he said, "Why did you not tell me this before? Ah, never mind."

They barreled down the hallway together, turned a corner, and a flood of barely-clad women burst from a door. Fez slowed down, but Donna grabbed his arm and pulled him through the sea of flesh.

"King Fez," the women shouted, "where are you going? Why are you leaving?"

"I really don't know," Fez said. He tried breaking from Donna's grasp.

"Kelso," she said again and refused to let him go. "His leg is infected by a Duergar bite. It's all maggot-y."

He shut his eyes. "Oh, no. My poor friend! I have been so cruel to him." His eyes opened, and he addressed the barely-clad women. "Whores, where are my clothes?"

The women looked at each other, confused.

"King Fez demands his clothes!" he said.

"But, Fez—"

"I said, 'Clothes,' damn it! And a hot washcloth and a lantern."

The women scrambled, and soon, Fez was presented with the washcloth, lantern, and his clothes.

He cleaned himself and dressed. "Thank you," he said afterward. "Now good day." He offered Donna his arm, and she clasped it.

"But, Fez—" the women pleaded.

Donna put up a hand. "He said, 'Good day!'"

Fez smiled as they reached the palace gate. "You sounded like Rhonda just then."

"Yeah, she was good at that."

They stepped into the chilly night air, and Donna shivered. She should have demanded her clothes back, too. That drug was still too deep in her system, but a half moon glowed in the black sky, and she thought of Eric. They needed to find him... so she could kill him.

* * *

Eric's eyes fluttered open, and nothing filled them but luminous darkness— like a flashlight beaming into inky black water. The last he remembered, he'd eaten a terrific meal of venison in the town hall. His mind was still hazy from sleep, and he tried to inhale deeply only to find he couldn't. Shallow breaths were all he could manage, as if his lungs had shrunk in size.

Wind breezed through his hair, and his body bobbed up and down. But he was flat on his back with his arms pinned to his sides. His legs were secured together, too. People must have had him on their shoulders. He was tied up like a hog, and they were carrying him.

"I am truly sorry for what I'm about to do," Mayor Bromley said from somewhere.

Eric glanced around and spotted a white, glowing light— _his hand._ Then he spotted blacker shadows against the dark sky, _trees._ He was in the woods.

"I have so many lives to protect, you see," the mayor said, "my citizens who have put their faith in me. I cannot have one man undoing everything I've sacrificed for."

Eric smiled at the mayor's use of the word "man," but how sad was that? He never really feel like a man, except when he made love to Donna—o _h, God._ Donna! That woke him up. He struggled against the ropes that bound him. His lit arm was numb again, so were his shoulder, the front of his neck, and part of his chest. The flare-bug venom had spread.

"Right here," the mayor said, and whoever was carrying Eric stopped. "Do you have any last words, Mr. Forman?"

_Last words?_ Eric angled his head to the right. A gaping, black patch of ground lay before him. Not a hole but the lake of shadows, of bogles. The mayor's men were going to toss him into it. They were going to kill him.

He opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. He tried again, but nothing. The light must have gotten to his vocal chords. He was as mute as Jackie. _Don't do it,_ he wanted to say. _Fuck off!_ was another one. _Why?_ was yet another. _What possible good could killing me do?_

He sucked in a difficult, shallow breath, and hot daggers of pain pierced his chest. He couldn't breathe at all anymore. The light had invaded his lungs. He squeezed his eyes shut and gasped uselessly.

"Toss him in," the mayor said, and Eric fell.

His eyes opened as he plummeted into the shadows. He didn't know what the bogles would do to him, but death was imminent regardless. He was suffocating—not a pleasant way to die. Yet, instead of being consumed by darkness, a light brighter than the sun flared around him. It burned through his mind, incinerating all thoughts but one.

_Donna._


	35. Irreplaceable Loss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 35  
 **IRREPLACEABLE LOSS**  


Donna and Fez charged through the night, trying to get back to the statehouse. For all she knew, Eric had returned hours ago. But knowing his dumb ass, he'd probably gone out again to search for her. It was so dark out, and the lantern Fez carried didn't offer much light, and she wasn't sure they were even going in the right direction. The houses here all looked the same. Didn't anyone in Bean Town believe in street signs?

"Donna?" Fez said.

"Yeah?"

"I think we are lost."

She sighed. "Great."

"We'll just have to hold each other for warmth until day," Fez said.

"I don't think so." She no longer found anything he said to be attractive. The effects of the brothel's drug had completely worn off. "We're in a town, not a forest. We'll just have to—"

She stopped talking, stopped moving. A presence was overwhelming her heart... Eric. Everything that he was flooded her senses, as if he were holding her, loving her. He washed through her body and evaporated as she glimpsed a strange burst of light.

"Eric..." she whispered. The light was far away, on the other side of town, but glowing steadily. "That's Eric!" Her pounding heart knew nothing else. "Let's go, Fez. Let's go!"

Fez nodded, and they ran together toward the light.

A flash of light breached Hyde's closed eyelids and tore him from sleep. He peered through the window from his bed. The light was shining steadily through it.

"Is it freakin' morning already?" he said and glanced at his watch. It was a little after three A.M., and his breath froze inside his throat.

Forman.

Kelso's eyes shot open as light streamed into his room. He jumped out of bed, which made his left leg hurt. But he ignored the pain and limped to the window.

"Fireworks?" he said to himself. But no thunderous claps shook the air, and the light didn't burst or pop or change colors. It remained steady and white. Boring.

The bedroom door slammed open. "Kelso!" Hyde shouted. "Grab your sword. Let's go!"

Kelso turned to him. "Hyde, I like you and all, but not that much."

"Forman's in trouble, man." Hyde said and disappeared from the doorway. "Get your ass in gear!"

"Eric?" Kelso looked out the window again. Then he pulled on his shirt and jacket. Exchanged his silk pajama bottoms for linen slacks. Stuck his feet into his boots, fastened his sword belt around his body, and sheathed his rapier.

Hyde and Jackie were waiting for him downstairs. Hyde had on a sword, too. "Come on, man!" he said. He was carrying Jackie piggyback-style and led the way out of the statehouse.

"You assholes!" Donna said from somewhere. "You murdered my husband!"

"I'm not dead," Eric muttered. He was cold. Something hard and lumpy was beneath him, and his eyes were closed. He opened them. "Holy, shit—I'm not dead!"

"Eric?" Donna yelled down.

It was followed by Hyde's, "Forman!"

"Donna, I'm not dead!" he shouted back and used whatever was beneath him to push himself up. The hard, lumpy thing rattled, and he looked down. The rotting corpse of a boy met his gaze with half-eaten eyes.

Eric screamed. He fell down onto his butt and screamed some more. He scrambled backward and kept on screaming.

The lake. He was in the shadow lake, only the shadows were gone. "Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God," he said when he finally stopped screaming. "Someone—someone—dead! Body. Else's! Get me the hell out of here!"

"Rope!" Fez said from above. "I said, 'Rope!'"

Seconds later, a rope dropped down into what was now just a giant hole, but something gold glinted on the ground—Thearl's pocket watch. Eric's bare feet stood on either side of it.

Oh, man. He was naked. His clothes must have disintegrated in that light, which meant the seeds Laurie gave him were gone. He searched the emptied lake bed for them, tossing aside items the bogles had stolen—a teapot, a necklace, the town hall's beanstalk sculpture. But the seeds were scattered around the boy's corpse. Wonderful.

He got on his hands and knees and collected the seeds—nine of them. The other five could've been in the lake bed somewhere, but he stood up and grabbed the rope.

Donna and Hyde hauled him out of the empty lake. He clambered over the lip and onto the dirt. It was still night, but the horizon glowed with the the beginnings of dawn. A crowd had gathered in the woods, seemed like the whole town, but they were maintaining their distance. Mayor Bromley, Thearl, and two of the mayor's guard stood nearby. Kelso and Fez had swords trained on them, but the stern look on Fez's face was probably what kept them from fleeing.

"Eric... you dillhole!" Donna wrapped her arms around Eric's back. She kissed his lips, his cheeks, his forehead. "I hate you!" she said and kissed him some more.

"Forman, are you naked?" Hyde said.

Eric glanced down at himself. "It's a style."

Donna grabbed his right arm, "The light—it's gone!" then pulled him into another hug. "You're gonna be fine, Eric." Her fingers brushed through the back of his hair. "Oh, God. Thank God."

When they parted again, Eric realized she was practically naked herself, wearing just a thong and some nipple pasties. He swiftly returned to hugging her.

"Do you have needs, Eric?" Fez said.

"Yes," Eric said. "I need some pants."

Fez clapped once and said, "Pants!"

Thearl took off his pants and handed them to Eric. Eric gratefully slipped them on and dropped Laurie's seeds into a pocket. "How about some clothes for my tiger lily over here?" he said.

Hyde draped his corduroy jacket over Donna's shoulders. Jackie was clinging to his waist.

"And now it is time for answers," Fez said. He paced in front of the mayor, the pantsless Thearl, and the two guards. "Who is that dead boy?"

The mayor smoothed his silver sash over his generous stomach, and he shook his head. Thearl stared at his feet, and the two guards stood stone-still.

"Who is that boy?'" Fez repeated.

"My son!" Elf-shot Evanthe hurtled from the observing crowd. She barreled toward the empty lake, her scraggly hair whipping behind her, but Eric hooked her around the middle before she could throw herself in. "My seed! That's my seed," she shouted and pushed against him.

"Your seed?" Eric said; then he understood. "That's his name. Your son's name is Seed!"

"Yes!" She twisted in Eric's arms and pointed to the mayor. "That Duergar stole him from me!"

"That woman is a lunatic," the mayor said, and she collapsed, weeping, to the ground. "She's—"

"No!" Thearl stepped forward. "I will not allow this to go on any further." Then he bowed at Fez's feet. "I am so deeply sorry, Your Majesty. We took the boy from her. We—we—" His voice was a half-sob.

"Thearl! Speak no further," the mayor said.

Hyde grabbed him by the sash. "Why don't you pipe the hell down and let him talk?"

"Because it is my tale to tell, my duty to tell it, and I will tell it."

"Fine." Hyde let the mayor go and backed off with Jackie. "But if you tell one damn lie, Kelso's gonna have fun tearing you a new mouth-hole. Right, Kelso?"

"We don't really do that in King Fez's guard. We—"

Hyde scowled. "Whatever. Just hurt him."

Fez moved in front of the mayor with crossed arms. He finally looked like the monarch he was, and Eric was impressed.

"Yes, we took the boy," the mayor said. "Bean Town was in ruins after the Trolls' massacre. They destroyed everything. Beanstalks had begun to sprout, breaking through our paved streets. We feared Giants... We could not uproot the stalks, you see. And repairs were not going fast enough."

"I didn't know that," Fez said. "I would have sent more men, more resources—"

"We didn't want your help. You, who pardoned the Troll King's children. You, who could not even bother to check up on us. So we took it upon ourselves... I took it upon myself to solve our problems."

The mayor's face had grown red, and his fingernails raked along his silver sash. "I walked in the woods one day, pondering Bean Town's plight, and a Changeling appeared before me. 'I can solve all your problems,' it said. 'I can make your town stronger, more beautiful than it ever was before.' I got to my knees and begged him, 'Please. Oh, yes, please, tell me what I must do.' 'Bring me a child,' it said, 'so I might live as men do and gain the ability to experience true love.' And I said, 'Fix the town, and you will have your child.'

"So the Changeling did as I asked. With a snap of his fingers, the beanstalks were gone. All roads and buildings were repaired and decorated with all kinds of treasure. Even that statue of you, Your Majesty, was the Changeling's doing..."

The mayor stared out over the empty lake, but his eyes never once flicked down. "And I knew that if I did not find a child to give him, the Changeling would undo it all, perhaps make things even worse for us—but stealing someone's child! It was reprehensible to me.

"I had to make a choice, and—and Seed..." His voice was shaking for the first time, and he tore off his sash. "The boy, you understand, he was born damaged. He had no sight. He couldn't hear or speak! His life would not last long naturally, not without constant care. And even if he lived, what sort of life would he have? Who would love him after his mother passed? It was the rational choice."

Eric glanced over at Jackie. She'd buried her face into Hyde's chest, and he cupped the back of her head protectively. Eric was tempted to shield her himself, but she wouldn't have appreciated that.

"Thearl and I took the boy in the night," the mayor continued. "Evanthe got the barest glimpse of us before we dosed her with the only portion of Troll dust we had in our stores. We brought the boy here, and the Changeling switched bodies with him. The Changeling, however, quickly discovered its new body's limitations.

"It grew furious, realizing it would never enjoy the things most people do. But we had upheld our part of the bargain. We'd upheld it! There was no stipulation the boy be healthy.

"But the Changeling returned to its own shrunken, gnarled form. 'If I cannot have his life as payment,' it said, "then I will have his death.' Then it—it slew the child."

Evanthe, still huddled by Eric's feet, wept louder at this. The mayor leapt back and almost fell into the empty lake, but his guards caught him.

"Th—that seemed to satisfy," the mayor said, "for the Changeling vanished and never appeared again. Thearl and I buried the boy over there." He nodded at the empty lake. "Then the bogles came."

"Yes," Fez said. "They were attracted by your indecent act. They—"

"Gathered here," Thearl said, "in the boy's grave! They caused all sorts of mischief, stole my pocket watch. This brave man," he patted Eric on the shoulder, "followed me here. He discovered Bean Town's shadow plague, and the mayor wanted to reward him for it by dumping him into the lake of bogles!"

Fez poked the mayor's pudgy arm. "And you tried to keep this all a secret by having your whores king-nap me. Oh, you bad, bad mayor!"

"But the bogles are gone," Eric said. "Wait... the bogles and the flare-bug venom! They must have canceled each other out. That's why I'm cured!"

"Pardon me. Pardon me." A short, plump woman waddled in from the crowd. "Did you say bogles?" Eric nodded, and the woman looked at Donna. "And is this young man who was afflicted by the venom of a flare bug?"

"Yes, doctor," Donna said.

Eric raised his eyebrows. "Doctor?" During her visit to the statehouse, he'd gorged himself on a baked ham in the kitchen. He hadn't met with her before she left or even seen her. But it sounded like Donna and the doctor had shared some things.

"Glorious day! Glorious day, indeed!" the doctor said. "I have discovered the cure for flare-bug venom! Immerse the victim inside a boggle or ten, and the venom will be neutralized."

Technically, Eric had discovered the cure, but the doctor shook his hand before he could get a word out.

"Young man, you have just made my fortune!" she said and waddled off.

"Ai..." Fez looked toward the brightening horizon. "Now I will have to make another detour. This time, back to my castle. I must bring Mayor Bromley and Thearl to justice. Kelso, tie them up—"

"No!" Evanthe's grief-filled wail cut through the air and ignited the crowd. Bean Town's citizenry surged forward as one entity toward the mayor.

"My people," Fez said. "My people, please!"

But no one seemed to listen. The crowd edged Eric, Donna, and their friends toward the empty lake—along with the mayor, Thearl, and the two guards.

"Hear me!" Fez shouted.

"Fez, man, what are you doing?" Hyde said.

"It is my duty as King to bring order to—"

"Be King later when you can back it up!" Hyde grabbed Fez's wrist and yanked him and Jackie away from the crowd. Eric and Donna followed with Kelso close behind.

The only place to run to was deeper into the woods. They ran until Eric could no longer hear the crowd's angry shouts.

"M—madness," Fez said, and he leaned against a thick tree. Everyone but Eric joined him and caught their breath.

"Eric," Kelso said, "why aren't you huffing and puffing?"

Eric shrugged. The sprint had barely sped up his heart. "A morning jog does the body good," he said.

The sun was rising, but these woods were dense and cold. The trees looked strange, too, like huge asparagus spears, and smelled like cabbage. Their tops disappeared into a cloud of fog that crackled with lightning. Eric closed his arms over his bare chest to keep from shivering. "Where the hell are we?"

"Beanstalk Forest," Hyde and Donna said together, and they sounded less than happy.

"Yes," Fez said, "we are now in the Third Kingdom, the Troll Kingdom. We must tread carefully, but if we go north just enough, we can bypass Bean Town, go east, and return to my kingdom."

Kelso pushed himself from the giant beanstalk and scratched his back. "All fifty of those beanstalk lashes are coming back to me. Man, do they know how to punish people in Snow White Memorial Prison. Whip you with some beanstalk then serve it to you for dinner... Damn, I hate beanstalks!"

Before moving on, everyone did a clothing-switch. Donna returned Hyde's corduroy jacket, which he put on Jackie. Fez gave Donna his white, military-style jacket, and Kelso gave Eric his nearly identical jacket. Kelso also offered to give Eric his underwear so Donna could wear Thearl's pants, but Eric had to decline—and Donna didn't blame him. She buttoned Fez's jacket up to her chin, and like the incredible lady she was, complained not one bit as they walked through the cold, damp forest.

They had no supplies. Only Fez and Kelso were wearing swords, and Eric and Donna had less than one outfit between them. Yet, strangely, Eric felt a measure of joy. His friends had clothed Donna and himself as best they could. They'd worried about the flare-bug venom and rushed to his aid. Simply put, they valued his life. What more could a man ask for?

A clap of thunder answered him, followed by a guttural moan in the fog. Giants?

Eric shivered. Yes, a man could ask for a little more, like not wandering in the freakin' beanstalk forest.


	36. Bad Shots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 36  
 **BAD SHOTS**  


"Forman," Hyde said and pulled Eric behind a thick beanstalk. They'd been listening to Fez's disappointment in himself for a good fifteen minutes, about how he was responsible for that boy's death in Bean Town. But Eric had heard only every other sentence. Lightning was crashing in the mist overhead. It lit up the dark forest and filled his mind with horrible visions—of giants climbing down the beanstalks and breaking his tiny body in two.

The acrid stink of the forest didn't help matters, either. The venison he ate last night would've come straight up had he not already digested it.

" _Forman,_ " Hyde repeated louder and yanked Eric into his arms. The hug was brief and somewhat violent. He patted Eric on the back hard enough to sting, but he also said, "Glad you're not dead, man," before letting Eric go.

The gesture was as honest as it was rare, and it startled Eric into silence. Usually, Hyde buried any warm feelings he had for people beneath a cold, truth-deflecting veneer. Hugs were rarer still, reserved for reuniting after long absences or genuine congratulations for something important, like the birth of Kelso's daughter.

Hyde must've been really worried about Eric's safety, but he gave Eric no chance to respond. Lingering in sentiment was not his way, and he left Eric behind the beanstalk to catch up with the rest of the group.

Eric met up with them seconds later, and the forest's dirt clung damply to his bare feet. Not wearing shoes wasn't pleasant, but feeling uncomfortable meant he was alive, so he wouldn't complain...

Unlike Fez, who was still at it. "I haven't taken my duty as King seriously enough," he said. "It is hard to rule a country, but now I have _one-and-a-half_ kingdoms to rule—until it's decided who succeeds Queen Gretel to the throne. Ai... I will not let distractions cloud my head any longer."

"Look, man," Kelso said and clasped Fez's shoulder, "it's not like responsibility is fun. It sucks. I mean, who wants to be responsible when you can dive into a mountain of gold? But all that does is trap your friends in a mountain where evil Dwarves can stab ya. It's a tough life..." Kelso's arm slipped off Fez's shoulder and scratched his own leg, the one with the Duergar wound, "but it's worth it, right? Keepin' the world safe for your kids—well, you don't have any kids, but your citizens do. Except for that crazy chick in Bean Town. Her kid's dead..."

Eric released a half-sigh, half-laugh. Kelso's attempt to comfort Fez was clumsy but heartfelt. Even after all their recent fighting, Kelso's loyalty to him hadn't wavered.

"Yes, Kelso, thank you." Fez rummaged in his pants pockets and pulled out Kelso's rank badges. "I have not been a good king," he pinned the badges to Kelso's white jacket, currently buttoned-up over Eric's body, "so how can I judge you so harshly? You are restored to my Captain of the Guard."

Kelso grinned and flicked the badges on Eric's collar. "Awesome."

"Hey, how's your leg?" Hyde said. His arm was locked around Jackie's waist. She was traveling blind, and maneuvering between the beanstalks and trees couldn't have been easy.

Kelso looked down at his thigh. His limping had been less pronounced, but he still slowed them down. "Itchy. I wish I'd brought that jar of moss the doc gave me."

"Eric." Donna tugged on Eric's sleeve and drew his attention. She'd been quiet for a while, and Eric had thought she was busy listening to Fez. But the expression on her face, the knitted-together brows, told him differently. She'd been pondering something, rolling it around in her thoughts before choosing to speak it out. "You shouldn't have followed your bogle hunch alone. It could have waited the five seconds you needed to tell me about it. _You_ should have waited.

Eric crossed his arms over his chest. The forest was cold and wet, leaving a film of moisture on his skin, but the chill passing through his body came from the inside-out. Laurie's words to him at the wedding rang in his head: " _No matter what happens, don't forget Donna or your stupid friends either. They need you as much as you need them_."

"Donna's right, man," Hyde said.

"Come on, Hyde!" Eric uncrossed his arms and gestured at him. "You would've done the same thing."

"Yeah, but I'm not you."

"Look, whatever. I'm fine, see?" Eric waved his right arm. "The poison's gone. I solved a crime. I did good."

"No, you got lucky," Hyde said, and a low rumble kicked up in Eric's throat. It was a strange, unfamiliar sound, but he felt too annoyed by Hyde and Donna to care. They weren't his parents—and his actual father, Red, would've been damn proud of him. At least, Eric hoped he would.

Donna grasped his hand. Her fingers were cold, and Eric rubbed them with his other hand. He couldn't help himself. His lady deserved to be warm. "We love you Eric," she said. "That's why we're saying this."

"No, I'm saying it 'cause he pissed me off." Hyde's voice was rough, but his sunglasses were hooked to his collar. The crinkle of his eyes betrayed the truth.

"So... how's Jackie?" Eric said. He'd had enough attention paid to him today, more than enough.

Hyde jerked his thumb at Jackie. "Ask _her._ She can still hear."

Eric repeated his question to Jackie, and she shrugged. "That good, huh?" he said.

She pinched her nose and made a face.

He nodded, not that she could see it. "Yeah, it does stink here. Like what Hyde's mom used to cook in the high school cafeteria."

Hyde let out a silent laugh. "Nice."

Jackie pointed to her eyes with her left hand and to her nose with the right. Then she switched hands to point at them. It was like charades.

"You wish you could swap your sense of smell for your sense of sight?" Eric said.

She mouthed something in response, but he couldn't make it out. He answered with a simple, " _Mm-hmm,_ " and gave Hyde a pat on the arm before turning away. What they were both suffering put a lump in his throat, but Fez said everything in the Nine Kingdoms had a cure. Eric had found his. They just had to find theirs.

* * *

Steven tugged on Jackie's arm, and they sped up a little. She couldn't see the reason, of course, but he said, "Wanna ask Fez a a few things," which let her know why. He'd been so good, telling her everything her eyes could no longer relay. They'd entered that awful Beanstalk Forest again, but she would've guessed that on her own. She'd never forget the moist, cold air and the booming thunder. The first time she'd been here, evading the Troll King's army had been the worst of it. Steven barely acknowledged her then, except to keep her safe.

Now, though, he was doing far more than keep her safe. He was keeping her prospect of losing more to this curse threatened to drive her mad with terror. What was next, her sense of touch? Her hearing? What would she do then? What would _he_ do?

"Fez, man," Steven said, "what's all this mumbo-jumbo about 'true love'? The Duergar's mirror spewed a bunch about it. Bean Town's doc said that's what Kelso needs to make his leg better, and I think Jackie kissin' my arm fixed the cut the Duergar gave me. Is it some kind of magic or what?

He tightened his grip on Jackie's hand as Fez said, "Yes, it is magic. The Five Great Ladies brought peace to the Nine Kingdoms, but true love is the blood of that peace. It courses through the land as blood does our veins."

"Uh-huh..." Steven's grip on Jackie loosened, but only for a moment. "Yeah, I don't get it."

"Love grows more love," Fez said, "but love destroyed makes it difficult for love to blossom elsewhere. Do you understand now?"

"Nope."

"Ai... Okay, do you remember Kissing Town?"

"Can't forget," Steven said, and neither could Jackie. That was where he proposed to her the first time, with all the heart-shaped balloons floating in the air. They'd finally reconciled, and he was incredible, but she'd rejected his ring. She thought magic was making him propose, making him listen to her and speak so gently. And her rejection pushed him straight to the Evil Queen, to Laurie.

"My grandfather," Fez continued, "he woke Snow White from her deathly slumber with a kiss, _true love's_ kiss. That is why everyone finds love in that town... and why true love deepens there. Whereas in the north, in the icy Eighth Kingdom, love cannot flourish. It grows brittle and cracks. A heart there was too badly broken."

Jackie's breath grew short, as if a frozen fist had clutched her own heart. A place where people couldn't fall in love? _That_ was hell, not Kissing Town, as Steven once called it. The hope of love so often kept her afloat. It shone like a beacon through her parents' hollow relationship and, eventually, drew her to a safe and joyful place. For people to be deprived of the chance at real love, the very idea cast a shadow inside her mind.

A warm hand rubbed her back. Steven's? Had he noticed her rough breathing? A finger—no, a thumb—traced the ridge of her ear. _Definitely_ Steven. Her eyes fell shut as the soft pad of his thumb lulled her her breath to normal. That simple, gentle touch always had a pacifying effect on her...

But his next question obliterated the feeling: "Think wolves are gonna track us here?"

"Doubtful," Fez said. "The beanstalks' smell keeps them away."

"Too bad."

Jackie glanced toward Steven blindly. What the hell did he mean, _"Too Bad"?_ Those wolves were vicious killers. Why would he want them to follow?

"Jackie, let me show him," he said and raised up her left hand. That part she understood. He wrapped his fingers around her engagement ring, and she let him. He pulled, but the ring didn't move. Somehow, when he touched it, the ring remained cemented to her finger.

"Ah, yes... the ring is attuned to her," Fez said. "She must truly not want it to come off. You cannot do it for her, Hyde. She must take the ring off herself."

"Shit..." Steven released her left hand, " _shit!_ " and the weight of his head dropped onto her shoulder. He was upset, but she was comforted by this new knowledge. She had control now. She could stop worrying he'd remove the ring and bring the curse's effects onto himself.

She reached up and stroked the back of his soft curls. "It's okay, baby. We'll break this curse, and then I'll take the ring off, and you'll owe me for my brave sacrifice... I can't wait to make you pay off this debt."She was teasing him, though he couldn't hear her. But he could feel her. She turned her face, and her lips grazed against his skin. She kissed him playfully, smacking pops of her lips on his flesh—maybe on his temple or the cheek. She couldn't tell which.

His head rose up from her shoulder, and she smiled her best, shining Burkhart smile. "So..." he said, "you know you've got all the power now, huh?"

"You're very smart," she said, and pinched the air with her fingers. She would've pinched his nose had she been able to see it.

But he understood her intentions. He guided her hand to his nose, and she pinched his nostrils with a giggle. He was so beautiful, despite that she couldn't see him. But she let go of his nose before her silent laughter became tears. She missed his face too much, the way his eyes brightened whenever they landed on her own beauty.

"Why do you want the wolves to follow us,'?" Fez said, and Jackie nodded. He'd asked her own question.

"So we can have a little 'talk' about this ring," Steven said. "They want it, which means they know something."

"Don't you dare, Steven Hyde," Jackie said and jabbed a finger into his arm. Her whole body had tensed. "You are not to go near those wolves, understand?"He said nothing, made no promises, but kissed the top of her head. Had he read her lips? Or had her words fallen on unseeing eyes? Regardless, she twisted her fist into his shirt, fearing what he planned to do.

* * *

"Go, already. Go," Donna said and shoved Eric toward Fez and Kelso. Eric's excuses had fallen on deaf ears, apparently. He didn't want to talk about his sister, and he looped his arms around the wide base of beanstalk in a last-ditch effort, but Donna unhooked him and forced him to walk beside Fez. "Tell. Him. Eric."

"Tell me what?" Fez said.

Eric gazed up the mist. It crackled with tiny lightning bolts. "Laurie..."

"Ooh, what about her?" Kelso said, and Donna grabbed his arm. She yanked him back to Hyde and Jackie. "But I wanna hear!"

"And you're staying _here._ " Donna's tone had an air of finality, and Kelso relented.

Eric was thankful for the privacy, but his voice had thickened in his throat. "My sister's spirit visited me at the wedding," he said and told Fez everything—about the Forman family secret, that Snow White's stepmother had chosen Laurie _specifically_ to finish her vile work, and that Eric had to find out why. Fez listened intently, and then Eric showed him Laurie's wedding gift, a handful of seeds.

Fez rolled one of the speckled seeds between his fingers. "Yes, these are need seeds."

"Need seeds?"

"They will give you what you need—but not necessarily what you _want_ —in a given moment. Be careful with them." Fez placed the seed back into Eric's palm. Then he did something peculiar. He stuck his hand into his own pants pockets, and his fingers flicked something that sounded like paper. "I haven't only been a bad king, Eric. I've been a bad friend. I kept a wedding gift from you." He pulled a crumpled, red envelope from his pocket.

Eric took it. The words, "From Cousin Penny" were written on the front. "What is it, a gift certificate to Price Mart or something? Why'd you take it?"

"Your deliciously bouncy cousin is a trouble-maker," Fez said.

"You don't have to tell me." Eric flipped the envelope over and slid his thumb behind the triangular flap. "So what's in here?"

"The beginning of the truth."

_The beginning of the truth?_ Eric glanced behind him. "Donna—Donna, come here."

Donna hurried to his side as Fez slowed his pace and fell back. "What's that?" she said, indicating the envelope.

"It's from Penny," Eric said. "'The beginning of the truth'. I want you to open it with me."

"Really?" A warm smile spread across her face, and she snaked her arm around his back. She must have had a million more questions than "Really?" but she spared him as his thumb started to raise the envelope's flap. Before he could open it, however, a sweet smell invaded his nose, in direct opposition to the forest's pungent odor. A moment later, a cloud of pink dust whizzed by his face and exploded on a beanstalk.

"Trolls!" Fez shouted and darted ahead through the beanstalks.

Eric stuffed the envelope in his pocket. Then he grabbed Donna's hand as another pink cloud flew over their heads. He spared a look behind him. A group of Trolls, maybe a half-dozen, were huddled around an oak tree and flinging Troll dust at them.

"Trespass in our forest, will you?" one of the Trolls said. "Victory for the Troll Nation!"

Kelso stood firm and drew his sword. "Everyone get back. I'll fight 'em off!"

Fez ducked behind a thick beanstalk. It was as broad as a sixteen-wheeler truck, and Hyde and Jackie followed. Eric hesitated, but Donna pulled him to the beanstalk where they hid in relative safety and watched.

"Stab a Kelso, it's Kelso!" one of the Trolls said. He broke from the pack and brandished an axe. His huge mouth, full of too many sharp teeth, snarled in Kelso's direction. But rather than approaching, the Troll kept his distance.

He had to be the smallest Troll Eric had ever seen, smaller than even Bluebell, the youngest of the Troll sovereigns. Still, this Troll stood a half-foot taller than Kelso and had the typical Trollish features—large rumpled nose, pointed ears pierced with spiky jewelry, and eyes hooded over by a thick brow.

"I am Thorny," the Troll said and finally took a step toward Kelso, "soon to be known as the Troll Nation's greatest warrior. Those ten thousand shoes are as good as mine!"

"No, they're mine!" A female Troll broke from the pack, too, and she was just as small as the first. Her straw-like hair fell over her eyes, but she pushed it back with a leather-clad arm. "I'll be known as 'Sunflower the Terrible'... Yeah, I like the sound of that." She thrust her axe into the air. "I'll do him!"

"N'uh-uh!" Kelso said. "I've got a firm policy on that. No uggos and no Trolls!"

Troll dust continued to fly in his general direction, hurled by the remaining three Trolls. Eric had counted them properly now. Their aim was pretty lousy, though. The pink clouds burst harmlessly against beanstalks, and Eric thanked the Force for small gifts. The Troll sovereigns had been dumb, but they'd also been good shots. These guys couldn't hit the broad side of Kelso's butt.

But they got close. A pink cloud exploded by Kelso's feet, and Hyde shouted, "Get back here, Kelso! You can't—"

But Kelso was already battling with the two bolder Trolls. His rapier hilt clanged against their axes, and he pushed them back.

Hyde's eyes widened. "Holy shit. He can actually use that sword."

Kelso glanced behind him and stuck out his tongue. "Yeah, I told y—"

His distraction gave Thorny an opening. The Troll rammed his boot into Kelso's leg, his injured one, and Kelso crumpled to the ground. His fingers released his rapier, leaving him weaponless.

Someone grasped Eric's his wrist, and a smooth hand was shoved into his. "Watch her," Hyde said and left Jackie in his care.

Eric kept his mouth shut as Hyde charged into the fight. Calling for him to stop would have accomplished nothing. Hyde bridged the distance between the beanstalk and Kelso in moments. He tackled Thorny at the knees, and they both hit the dirt.

"Suck an Elf!" Thorny spat, and Fez surged forward, unsheathing his own rapier.

Fez deflected Sunflower's axe from coming down onto Hyde's neck. She didn't seem to recognize him as King of the Fourth Kingdom, which struck Eric as strange. They recognized Kelso but not Fez?

Hyde rolled off Thorny and took up Kelso's sword. Thorny's axe had landed in the dirt, but the Troll grabbed it and got to his feet. Hyde stabbed the sword at Thorny's face, but that served only to make the Troll more aggressive. He screamed and swung his axe wildly, and Hyde jumped back, narrowly avoiding being eviscerated.

The other three Trolls, meanwhile, kept flinging Troll dust and laughed as if this were a game. They were even smaller than the two fighting Hyde and Fez, and Eric focused on their faces. Their skin was the least rumpled he'd ever seen on a Troll, and some of their teeth were tiny spikes, like baby teeth. They had to be kids... but _Troll_ kids. Regardless, they were still strong and clearly knew how to fight—probably been trained since birth.

Kelso was still on the ground, groaning and clutching his leg. Thorny's boot had collided exactly where it shouldn't have. Kelso could have shaken off moderate pain. Eric had witnessed him do it hundreds of times. But that Duergar wound must've really hurt.

Hyde and Fez fought the Trolls away from Kelso's helpless body. They pushed Thorny and Sunflower back toward a group of beanstalks, but Hyde got in too close. He pressed the hilt of Kelso's sword against Thorny's thick neck and tried to get him into a choke hold. But the Troll's knobby hand flailed outward and slammed Hyde in the face.

"Hyde!" Donna shouted as he stumbled back. He'd lost his balance, and he crashed into a beanstalk.

"Shoot him! Shoot him!" Thorny said, and three pink clouds hurtled toward Hyde's face. One connected, and Hyde slid down the beanstalk. His butt met the ground, and his eyes were closed. He was out.

"I got one! I got one!" a Troll kid said. He was jumping up and down and waved his slingshot in the air.  
Donna left Eric's side then. He tried to pull her back, but it was too late. She'd already left the safety of their beanstalk, and he couldn't follow.

Hyde had entrusted him with Jackie. Donna, at least, could defend herself. Jackie was helpless, although she was trying to escape his grip. She jerked her arm, but he held her hand tightly. He sympathized with her, though. She was worried about Hyde, just as Eric was worried about Donna.

He shouldn't have been. She drew back her fist and walloped Thorny in the jaw. It stunned him, and he dropped his axe.

Eric suppressed a cheer. _Damn,_ his lady was strong—and strategic. She used her advantage and hooked Thorny's leg with her foot. She shoved him off balance, and he fell to the dirt, but she wasn't through yet. With a Troll-like roar, she straddled his back and clasped her hands beneath his chin.

She had him in a camel clutch, a classic wrestling move. She yanked his face up and his chest rose, but he didn't seem to mind. His mouth broke into a toothy grin, and he said. "Ooh, she is like the Troll Nation Wrestling Champion! Nicey-nice."

Eric didn't know what that meant, but he had more pressing concerns. Jackie's fingernails were biting into his flesh. His nerves flared with pain, and he let go of her hand. Fortunately, he grabbed hold of her wrist a second later. "Jackie, Hyde's okay," he said. "He's—he's kicking Troll-ass," A lie, but it seemed to do the trick. She stopped fighting him.

Thorny, however, hadn't stopped fighting Donna. He bucked her off his back as if she weighed nothing, but she landed safely on her butt and crab-walked in the dirt. She was moving sideways and bumped into Fez's legs.

" _Allez-oop!_ " Fez said and lifted her up.

Kelso had given him the chance. He was on his feet now and battling with Sunflower. Fez's rapier was in his hand, but it shone like lightning. Reflecting in the blade was the electric mist above, and Sunflower seemed dazzled by it. Her entrancement had weakened her defensive stance. Her axe lowered, and Kelso slashed the rapier at her arm.

Her cry of pain drew the other three Troll kids from the oak. They approached Kelso, Donna, and Fez and surrounded them in moments.

Behind the beanstalk, Eric's heart throbbed louder than the forest's thunder. He wanted to run out, to surprise the Trolls with an attack, but that would leave Jackie unprotected, and he couldn't do it.

"So, Kelso," Thorny said, "what do you have to say to your conquerors?" The Trolls had all raised their weapons, two axes and three daggers. They could have easily knocked out their captives with Troll dust, but this appeared to be a game to them. "If what you say is clever enough, I'll include it in my song about this battle."

"Suck an Elf?" Kelso said, and the Troll kids laughed.

"He cursed! He cursed!" the smallest of the Trolls said. He poked Kelso's bad leg with his dagger, and Kelso collapsed to the ground. "Looky-look! The mighty Kelso is on his knees!"

Jackie yanked on Eric's arm. She was mouthing something, but he couldn't tell what. "I don't know, Jackie," he whispered.

Fez's rapier lay beside Kelso in the dirt. Fez snatched it up and brought the point to Thorny's eye. "All right," Fez said, "you have had your fun and games, but now it is time to give us clear passage. The Third and Fourth a Kingdoms have a truce, we—"

"You have three seconds to shut up, _King Fez,_ " a new voice said. It was deep and caustic and belonged to a fully-grown Troll. He stomped in from the thick of the forest. His black hair matched the color of his leather armor, and several sharp-looking weapons dangled from his belt. "I am Stagger, and you have been defeated."

He was as large as Relish the Troll King had been, a full foot-and-a-half taller than Kelso and twice as broad. The Troll kids were looking up at him now, as if they were confused.

" _That's_ King Fez, Dad?" Thorny said.

"Yes, you imbecile!" Stagger slapped the back of Thorny's head. "Don't you pay attention to your lessons?"

"No, Dad," the Troll kids said together. They were frowning and sounded quite forlorn.

"Worm-brained idiots." Stagger peered up at the mist hovering over the beanstalks, like any exasperated father would have. Then he turned his attention to Fez. "I don't care about the little 'truce' between you and our sovereigns. The Troll Nation has been the laughing stock of the Nine Kingdoms far too long." He plucked a curved awl from his belt and held it under Fez's nose "I will make shoes out of your skin!"

Lightning split the sky after the declaration, and Eric squeezed Jackie's hand. He was doing his best not to shake. His wife and best friends were in danger, and he had no options. Leaping on Stagger's back wouldn't save them, but it would more than likely lead to Eric's death.

"I will make laces from your intestines," Stagger continued and traced Fez's nostrils with the awl. "Then I will tie them around your severed heads as a gift to the sovereigns."

He laughed heartily, and his children laughed with him. The sound mingled with peals of thunder, and Kelso stood up undetected. Fez passed him the rapier behind his back. A flash of steel followed, and Stagger was clutching his face.

"Ow, my eye!" Stagger shouted. "Take them!"

Eric pulled Jackie to the ground as Troll dust flew everywhere. "Keep quiet," he said then realized his mistake. Of course she'd keep quiet. She was mute.

He slipped his hand into his slacks pocket and watched as, despite their best efforts, Donna, Fez, and Kelso were each knocked out by Troll dust. He and Jackie were next unless he did something. He tossed one of the need seeds past their protective beanstalk. Nothing happened. The forest must have been too dark, and his arm no longer emitted any light.

Stagger's black boots neared the beanstalk. His heavy footsteps vibrated the ground, and Eric whispered to Jackie, "Lie down and keep your body limp. Pretend we're already unconscious."

She did as she was told, and they both lay down on the dirt floor with their eyes shut.

"This is a generous victory indeed," Stagger said. He lifted Eric's body off the ground, and Jackie's arm smacked Eric in the face. Stagger must have picked her up, too. "King Fez, the hated Kelso, and four of their companions."

Stagger passed Eric off to another hard shoulder, and Eric opened one of his eyes a crack. Each Troll was carrying one of his friends. Stagger carried Fez.

" _We are the Troll Nation, Troll Nation. We know how to do it,_ " the Troll kids sang and trudged through the forest. " _Ever strong Troll Nation, Troll Nation. We know how to show it._ "

Eric's cheek slammed into his captor's leather-clad back, and the Trolls' overwhelming body odor filled his nose. A headache rose in his skull, pounding, pounding... same as his heart and the Trolls' booted feet. Eric could barely think, but he wished he couldn't think at all—because the only thoughts that surfaced were that Trolls always tortured their captives.


	37. Rush a Torture, Ruin a Torture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 37  
 **RUSH A TORTURE, RUIN A TORTURE**  


Eric's eyes opened to a crumbling road and a neighborhood of ramshackle houses. It reminded him of where Hyde grew up, but as the Troll carried him, the neighborhood slowly gentrified. The road no longer had potholes, and the houses became more solid and bigger. They were Troll houses, of course, made from adobe or mud. Even so, in the middle-class area Eric had been brought to with his friends, the homes were elaborate: two or three stories tall with glass windows. Gruesome ornamentation littered their porches, like bleached bones and rusty axes stained with blood. The worst of it, though, had to be the severed, pointy-eared Elf heads on pikes.

The journey through the Troll Kingdom had taken hours, and the sky was darkening. Earlier, Eric had managed to fall half-asleep, but the conversation of Stagger and his children still reached him. They spoke mostly about how they'd turn Fez and Kelso into an expensive line of footwear, but now—as they lumbered into a two-story house—the topic turned to dinner

The house smelled like old meat, and Eric kept his eyes open a sliver. He caught a glimpse of Jackie as Sunflower put her down on the wooden floor. Jackie's muteness here was good because she swore at the rough landing. Eric's own Troll captor dropped him to the floor, and his eyes shut. The impact forced air from his lungs, but none of the Trolls seemed to hear it.

"Quickly now," Stagger said. "Quick! That Troll dust won't last much longer."

A knobby pair of hands grasped Eric in various places and bound his arms behind his back and his legs together.

"Aw, Dad," one of the Troll kids said, "why can't we have the potent stuff? Foxglove's got dust that'll keep a Giant sleeping for days!"

"Foxglove is a Fairy-loving liar!" Stagger shouted, and a sharp, fleshy sound rang out, as if he'd struck his son across the face. "He has no siblings. If I ate four of you, I could afford enough good Troll dust for one. Who wants to get in my belly first? Thorny? Sunflower?"

"No, no!" the Troll kids all said. "That's okay. Our dust is nicey-nice."

Eric's stomach clenched at the familial interaction. Being Red's son was often unpleasant, but Red was freakin' Marry Poppins compared to this guy.

"This isn't leather!" Sunflower said. "Not cow, but fibers!" She made a few spitting sounds. "Can't even eat it! Useless."

Eric didn't risk opening his eyes, but he wanted to know what she was doing. Had she gotten ahold of his friends' socks? One of their jackets?It had to be a jacket. A metallic _clink_ followed Sunflower's complaints, like a button or zipper falling on the wooden floor.

"Take the girl downstairs first," Stagger said. "She looks like she'll torture easily. It'll be good practice for you."

At that, Eric's eyes popped open, and a frenzied, "No!" shot from his mouth. Donna, Hyde, Kelso, and Fez were all still unconscious. They were tied up same as him, and their ropes were looped through shackles attached to the walls. But one of the Troll boys had a squirming, roped Jackie on his shoulders.

She was the girl they were going to torture, not Donna, but Eric didn't hesitate. He was lying on his back and tried to get to his knees, but his rope had been tied to a wall-shackle, too. He couldn't move much at all, and the Troll boy was carrying Jackie to a downward staircase.

"No, don't take her," Eric said. "Take me!"

Thorny slammed his boot into Eric's stomach, and Eric curled up like a dried leaf. "You'll get your chance, meatless!"

"Good work, boy," Stagger said. "I'll be making dinner. I want to hear screams while I cook!"

"Yes, Dad," the Troll kids said, and they brought Jackie downstairs.

Eric remained curled up until they left. Thorny's kick would've made him vomit had his stomach been full, but he hadn't eaten in almost twenty-four hours. The house's stink of old meat didn't help his appetite, either. But now that no Trolls were watching him, he glanced around at his surroundings.

Everyone but Hyde was tied up in a row against one wall. They were in some kind of living room, and behind a wooden door seemed to be the kitchen. Shelves with jars and broken nicknacks lined various walls. Stools were scattered throughout the room, too, and Hyde's corduroy jacket was draped over one.

"Man, what hit me?" Hyde said groggily, and Eric angled his head to right. Hyde was bound several feet away by the front door. His rope was tied to the doorknob, not a shackle, and a stone archway rose above him. "Why can't I move my arms?"

"Trolls and Troll dust," Eric said. "We're in their house. We've all been tied up."

Relief filled him that Hyde had woken, but why had he been separated from the rest of them? The Trolls probably never expected to have six hostages. Then again, five shackles for five Troll children. What kind of discipline did Stagger believe in?

Hyde grunted and struggled to sit up. It was a useless endeavor, though, and he must have realized that because he stopped. "Their house, huh?"

"Yeah, and judging by our current environment, I can understand why the Trolls might be cra—"

"Where the hell is Jackie?" Hyde tried to sit up again and shouted, "Jackie?"

"Hyde, zip it!" Eric whispered. "There's a freakin' Troll in the kitchen making dinner, and I, for one, would prefer not to _be_ dinner."

"Where is she, Forman?"

"Downstairs."

"Why?"

"They're..." Eric swallowed, "they're torturing her."

"What? You were supposed to watch her, man!"

"I told them to take me instead, but they wouldn't. They're just kids, though. They—they can't do too much damage, can they?"

"Forman, kids are some of the cruelest fuckers alive." Hyde leaned his head back and stared at the front door. Then he used the weight of his body and tugged on the rope knotted to the doorknob. He wrenched it repeatedly but succeeded only in making the door bang against its frame.

Eric looked away from him. Had it been Donna down in the Trolls' basement, Eric would've been fighting just as hard... and just as fruitlessly.

* * *

Jackie was being hoisted into the air. Even without her sight, she knew that much. The ropes around her arms and stomach tightened every time the Trolls jerked her up. What were they going to do to her?

A fire was crackling nearby, and the stink of sweat clogged her nose. This was no way for a Burkhart to be treated, but rough hands grabbed at her body, and she started to swing. The Trolls must have secured her to a pulley.

" _King Relish may be dead, but we have two kings and a queen instead._ " The Trolls were singing to the tune of the Bee Gees' "Night Fever. " _Whoever succeeds them must be strongest, bravest._ "

"Looky-look," one of the Trolls said and pulled on Jackie's ring. He kept on pulling even though it didn't move.

"Out of the way, Pixie-fingers!" Another set of hands grasped her wrist and tried to yank the ring off only to fail. "Ooh, she is crafty!"

Jackie was still swinging in the air when someone slipped off her shoes. She curled up her toes, remembering what happened the first time Trolls had captured her. They'd tortured Donna through her giant feet.

"Forget the ring," a third Troll said— _Sunflower,_ the only female Troll as far as Jackie could tell. "Thorny took her shoes! Gimme one!"

A bunch of Trollish shouts and slaps followed, and a booming voice from elsewhere called, "I don't hear screaming!" It was Stagger, the Trolls' father, and Jackie's heart hammered against her ribs—because he _wouldn't_ hear any screaming, no matter how much damage his Troll brats did.

She was mute except to herself. Her voice would scream inside her head as the Trolls tortured her, and it would scream louder as the Trolls upped the pain to hear it for themselves. She was at their mercy, absolutely helpless and strung up like a sausage.

But Jackie Burkhart didn't _do_ helpless. She pumped her tied-up legs back and forth, and her feet collided with one of the Trolls' hard, lumpy bodies—maybe even his face. She smiled at his cry of surprise.

Then the pain started.

A Troll grabbed her ankles tightly enough to make her yelp. Then her big toes were bent backward, so forcefully she thought they would break. She shrieked and jerked her body with as much strength as she had, but it was useless. Another Troll squeezed her around the middle with crushing force. She couldn't move anymore. Or breathe.

"Don't kill her!" one of the Trolls shouted. "Torture's no fun on a corpse."

The pressure relented, and Jackie sucked in a gasping breath, but her respite lasted no longer than that.

" _Make her scream, make her scream, make her scream,_ " the Trolls chanted, and a patch of heat warmed one of her heels. It turned into a searing burn, and she struggled in vain to pull her foot away They were sticking her foot with a hot poker.

"Steven!" _s_ he yelled silently. Tears had gathered in her eyes, and she kept shouting, "Steven, help me!"as the poker went to her other heel. But he wasn't going to save her from this. She had no idea where he was or what had happened to him.

"You're doing it wrong!" a Troll growled— _Thorny,_ it sounded like. The heat moved toward Jackie's face, and she shut her blind eyes.

"No, no. Not that way!" another Troll said, and the heat shifted lower to Jackie's neck. She cried out pathetically as it connected with the skin behind her ear, but the pain wasn't too bad. The poker remained in contact only a second. "Suck an Elf!" the Troll said. "Give me that," and the heat was drawn away completely.

Her ankles were released amid metallic clangs and Trollish shouts. The noise grew louder at first, then quieter until she heard nothing but the throbbing of her burned heels. But that wasn't a sound, was it? It was a feeling. The Trolls couldn't have stopped fighting or shouting just like that.

Wet heat enveloped her ear, joined by an odor like rancid meat in her nostrils. A Troll had to be yelling at her, but she could hear it. Pain struck her cheek afterward; she must have been slapped, but the sound of knobby Troll flesh connecting with her soft skin didn't reach her...

She was deaf.

Strong arms grabbed hold of her body again, and her heart choked with panic. She had no idea what was happening. At least with sound, she could create an image in her mind, but what did she have now?

She was maneuvered into a horizontal position. A hard lump pressed into her stomach and cut off her silent crying, and the stench of unwashed body made her gag. She could still smell and still feel. Those two senses would help her discern _some_ things, and her panic lessened enough for her to think. The Trolls must have untied her from the pulley and were carrying her up the stairs, maybe back to her friends, back to _Steven._

But even if she were reunited with Steven, how would she know? She hadn't seen him in days, and now, she could no longer hear him.

* * *

Watching Hyde's attempts to break free from his ropes only intensified Eric's terror. Hyde was supposed to be the calm and aloof one during these situations, "Zen," as he called it. Now he was anything but. The floor vibrated every time he found traction with his boots and heaved his body forward—only to fall down again. Eric didn't blame him for trying, but his desperation made Eric feel all the more desperate himself.

The scent of meat cooking in the kitchen, however, made his stomach growl. He was always hungry, it seemed, even with his life in danger.

At least he wasn't alone anymore. Everyone was conscious now, but he wished he'd been tied to the wall next to Donna. He wanted to kiss her one last time before they were killed. She was writhing on the floor like a dying insect and fighting to get the ropes off—unlike Kelso. He just lay there and sang something quietly to himself. He must have had a fever again, thanks to that Duergar wound in his leg.

"This is _so_ bad for your country," Fez shouted at the kitchen door. "You are violating the treaty between our two nations!" He'd managed to sit up against the wall, but in the kitchen Stagger either didn't hear him or didn't care.

The floor stopped vibrating for a minute before resuming. Hyde must have gotten tired, but a new sound mixed into his heavy thuds, a repetitive creaking. Eric looked toward the basement stairs. The five Troll children were back, and Thorny had Jackie over his shoulder.

"Hyde, stop!" Eric said. "Jackie—"

"Jackie!" Hyde shouted. He was sweaty and breathing hard from the effort to get free. "Jackie, look at me."

But she remained limp in Thorny's grasp. He dropped her between Fez and Donna like a sack of flour and tied her rope back to the wall.

Hyde became quiet as Thorny trudged away. The Troll huddled with his brothers and sister and put his arms around their leather-clad shoulders. They were whispering among themselves, but Eric remained focused on Jackie. Burn marks were on her heels, red and blistered. She wasn't moving, either, but the rise and fall of her chest meant she was alive.

"Jackie," Donna said, "are you all right?"

Jackie turned her face toward Donna in response, which meant Jackie was conscious. The Trolls hadn't beaten her completely senseless, and Eric calmed at that knowledge. Her safety was important to him, though he and Jackie had never been close. In fact, he mostly couldn't stand her, but they'd formed a bond since their first trip through the mirror. She'd saved his life, and he'd never forget it. Plus, she made his best friend happy—not that Hyde would ever admit that truth to anyone, but it was obvious how much Jackie meant to him.

And now, Hyde was pulling away from the front door as much the ropes would allow. "Is she mouthing anything?" he said.

"No," Donna said.

Hyde scowled at the Trolls huddling by the basement stairs. "What did you fuckers do to her?"

A Troll boy peeked his head out from the huddle. "You'll find out."

"That was a good one!" Sunflower thumped her brother on his back. "Who's next?"

"Take meatless," Thorny said. "He looks screamy."

"No!" Donna said and wriggled on the floor. "I'll scream all you want."

The thought of those Trolls burning his lady's body sent fury into Eric's skull, but they'd ignored her plea and were already untying him from the wall

"This is King Fez!" Fez said and slammed the floor with his bound feet. "You will release us immediately."

The Troll kids laughed at him, and Eric marveled at their brass. They didn't care about Fez's royal position—or were too ignorant to understand it. Fez's kingdom would likely unite with the other seven to tear the Troll Nation apart if they hurt him.

"I said, 'Release us!'" Fez shouted, and the Trolls laughed harder.

"Hey, you don't even have to torture me," Eric said. "I'll scream now. Help! For the love of God, somebody help us!"

"Not yet!" Thorny growled. He hefted Eric up and tossed him over his shoulder. "We have questions to ask, too."

"I'll tell you whatever you want."

"No!" Thorny slapped Eric's butt. "Rush a question, ruin a torture."

"Stab a Kelso! That's not how the saying goes," Sunflower said. "It's 'Rush a torture, ruin a torture.'"

"Right, right," Thorny said and started down the basement stairs with Eric

"But if you don't torture me at all, you can't ruin it, right?" Eric said, and he held his breath as the Troll kids argued over his question. Halfway down the stairs, they stopped moving. They seemed genuinely perplexed, until...

"Where are my sucking-Elfing screams?" Stagger called from the kitchen.

"You'll get them soon, Dad!" the Troll kids shouted back, and they carried Eric down to the basement.

The room was lit by a fire blazing in a fireplace, and a poker lay on the adobe floor some feet away. It must have been the culprit in Jackie's burns, and Eric shuddered. How many times had Stagger used it on his children? Or the whip hanging on the wall next to a tattered bearskin rug?

The room wasn't filled with much else, save some rope and a large, unfriendly-looking chair. The smell down here was dank and rotten, a mingling of old blood and mold.

A pulley was suspended from the ceiling, and the Trolls threaded Eric's own rope through it. If what they'd done to Jackie was enough to send her into shock, Eric was screwed. She was tougher than he was, always had been, but he had one last idea and cleared his throat.

" _We are the Troll Nation, Troll Nation!_ " he sang loudly. " _We know how to do it. Ever strong Troll Nation, Troll Nation. We know how to show it._ "

"Hey, he knows our anthem!" a Troll boy said and yanked on the rope. Eric rose into the air and swung a little.

Thorny jabbed Eric in the stomach. "Are you mocking us?"

"No, no," Eric coughed out. "It's a really nice, um... anthem." He continued to sing. " _King Relish may be dead, but we have two kings and a queen instead. Whoever succeeds them must be strongest, bravest..._ "

The Troll kids all joined in. " _Suck an Elf and skin 'em, too. Roll us a Giant and pass it. Victory for the Troll Nation. Hail the Troll Nation!_ " Then they started to laugh.

"Nicey-nice!" A Troll boy hit Eric on the back. "I like him."

"Me, too," said the one holding the rope. He lowered Eric to the floor.

But Thorny snatched the rope and said, "What are you doing?"

"He honored us."

"Yeah," Sunflower said, and she threw Eric over her shoulder. "Let's pick another one—and quickly before Dad gets any madder."

The Trolls kids rushed up the stairs, and Eric's heart beat so hard he felt it in his ears. He'd saved himself, but at what cost?

* * *

Hyde had wriggled as close to Jackie as he could, but he was still too far away. He didn't know what was wrong with her. She didn't respond when he called her name. She barely responded when Donna or Fez spoke. Hyde couldn't really see her face, and the burns on her heels made him want to kill the next Troll he saw.

"Donna, Fez," he said, "what's she look like? Any bruises? Cuts?"

Kelso answered first. "Brooke? I don't wanna change her diaper. It stinks."

He was clearly sick again, but Hyde didn't care, not right now. "Kelso, shut the hell up! Donna?"

"She has a small blister behind her ear," Fez said, and Hyde's anger spread from his chest to his arms. He struggled against his ropes again. He had to get to his chick, to touch her. To let her know he was with her.

"Hyde—Hyde!" Donna yelled. "Keep it down."

He quit moving. His breath was heavy, but his head felt light. He'd been cursing out loud without realizing.

Heavy steps thundered from the stairs. The Trolls emerged into the room with Forman and leashed him back to the wall. They'd barely been gone a few minutes. Had Forman cracked that quickly? Hyde's hands balled into fists behind his back. He was gonna kill these Trolls, every damned one of them—kids or no kids.

"Forman—"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Forman said.

One of the Trolls approached Donna. "Orange hair," he said.

"Hey!" Hyde shouted. All the rage confined in his body had funneled into his voice. "How 'bout I make _you_ scream, ya nutbags?"

The Trolls all turned on him, and the tallest of them—Thorny—said, "Is that a challenge?"

Hyde grimaced. "Untie me and find out, unless you're too much of..." _a pussy,_ he wanted to say, but that wouldn't do it for these Trolls, "an Elf."

"Stab a Kelso!" Thorny stepped forward and pulled out his dagger.

"Hyde, what the hell are you doing, man?" Forman said, but Hyde had a plan.

Thorny crouched beneath the stone arch and shoved the dagger beneath Hyde's chin. "Your head will decorate our porch hideously." His breath warmed Hyde's neck, and the rotten smell almost made him gag, but none of it—not even the sharp blade of Thorny's dagger—deterred him.

"Whatever," Hyde said.

"You don't believe me?" Thorny pressed the dagger deeper into Hyde's skin, and it stung. Hyde was probably bleeding. "I will make shoes out of your skin!"

"Good for you. You can cut someone who's tied up like a dead pig. Real brave, man."

The other Trolls laughed, and Kelso whimpered, "Burn..."

Thorny snarled and slashed the rope above Hyde's head. Then he sliced the ropes tying Hyde's arms and legs. "You are free," Thorny said and sheathed his dagger. "Choose a weapon."

Hyde sprang to his feet but didn't risk shaking out his aching arms. He didn't want the Troll to take that as a hostile act. Instead, he scanned the room for a weapon. The place wasn't decorated with axes on the walls or knives on the shelves. He glanced to the left. His corduroy jacket was lying over a stool.

"I pick that." Hyde jerked his thumb at the stool. Then he snatched up his jacket and shrugged it on. It would give him some protection from the dagger, at least.

He went for the stool next, but Thorny grabbed him by the jacket, "N'uh-uh. You chose the soft-soft fiber," and raised him off the ground until his feet were dangling in the air. "You chose wrong, dog meat."

Thorny growled and tossed Hyde into a shelf full of jars. Glass broke around him, and Hyde's skull pounded with the impact, but he had no time to recover. Thorny smashed him into the wall perpendicular—once, twice—and stars exploded in front of Hyde's eyes.

His mind couldn't form a coherent thought. His body couldn't react. Thorny had the advantage, and Hyde's friends knew it. They called out for him like it would make a damn difference.

"Are you children fighting?" Stagger shouted from the kitchen.

"Yes, Dad!" the Trolls shouted back. "With one of the hostages."

"Good! Keep it up!"

That momentary distraction was all Hyde needed to regain himself. His fist slammed into Thorny's eye, and Thorny yelled in pain or surprise. He released Hyde's jacket, and Hyde moved away from the wall—only to be kicked in the gut by one of Thorny's brothers

The kick felt like being rammed by a tree trunk. Breath abandoned him, but he wouldn't fall to his knees. He doubled over and caught sight of Jackie before his eyes shut. Her tear-streaked face and his more-than-sore stomach forced sense back into his throbbing skull.

He didn't have a chance against these Trolls with his fists. It was time to use his damn brain while he still had one. He reached into his jacket and wrapped his hand around a joint.

"Hey, you win," he said and straightened up slowly. His stomach and head were knotted with pain, but he separated his consciousness from it and focused outward. "You're all strong as hell, okay? Let's celebrate."

He opened his fingers, and Trolls stared at the joint in his palm.

"Is that Dwarf moss?" a Troll boy said.

The Troll girl—Sunflower—wasn't as polite. She snatched the joint from Hyde's hand and sniffed it. "It smells nicey-nice."

"Gimme!" Thorny grabbed the joint from her and put it to his large, bumpy nose. "We can't afford Dwarf moss. But we smoked some at Foxglove's once..."

"Well, this ain't Dwarf moss, but I think you'll dig it." Hyde was smiling; he almost had them. "It's Wisconsin grass." But the Trolls looked at him quizzically, so he pulled another joint from his jacket—along with a Bean-Town match—and sparked up. "Just smoke it. Like this..."

He took a long drag and held in the smoke because, _man,_ did the smoke feel good right now. The pain in his stomach ebbed as he let the smoke out.

But one drag was all he got. Sunflower swiped the second joint from his fingers, and she puffed on it. Her blonde hair had fallen over her eyes, and smoke escaped between tufts of it. "I don't feel anything."

"Takes a few pulls before you do," Hyde said. "Now you kids go downstairs and—"

He didn't need to finish. The Trolls were already on their way to the basement.

"I'm gonna light the other one!" a Troll boy shouted.

"Oh, you're bad with fire," another said. " _I'll_ do it."

Hyde chuckled and wiped the underside of his chin. The back of his fingers were spotted with blood.

"Hyde, you brilliant bastard," Donna said, "untie us!"

"Yeah... yeah, right." His stomach felt somewhat better thanks to the joint, but his head still hurt. He knelt by Donna and grasped her rope, but Jackie's face stared up at him with wide, blind eyes.

_Jackie._ He'd forgotten her briefly when she was in the Trolls' basement. He'd done the same thing in Dragon Mountain and when they'd gathered peas on Erbse Island. Maybe it was an effect of the curse, but he sure as hell remembered her now. His right hand worked on Donna's rope, but his left sought out Jackie and stroked her bruising cheek. She leaned into his palm and sniffed it. Then fresh tears filled her eyes.

"Jackie... hey," he said. She kissed the ball of his thumb, and his right hand abandoned Donna's rope. He leaned over Jackie's body and kissed her lips. "I'm here, Grasshopper," he whispered by her ear; then he kissed that, too. "Okay? Not leav—"

A loud bang made him turn around. Stagger was standing in the kitchen doorway. He wore an apron splattered with blood stains, and one of his eyes was covered by a crude eye patch.

"Why are you free?" Stagger bellowed. "Why aren't you all being tortured? Where are my children?"

Hyde blocked Jackie from Stagger's view. "They're downstairs, man."

"Suck an Elf! I'm gonna skin those little bastards." Stagger grabbed the rope that had once bound Hyde and approached him. "We can do this with a little pain or a lot of death," he said.

"Fair enough." Hyde held out his wrists, and Stagger roped them together behind Hyde's back. Then his ankles were lashed together. He hated being tied up again, but at least he was by Jackie this time and free to wriggle around. He inched his way between her and Donna as Stagger went downstairs.

" _This_ is how you torture!" Stagger shouted, followed by his children's screams.

Hyde, in spite of himself, felt sorry for the brats. They'd learned how to be shits from somewhere—just as Hyde had gotten it from his own asshole-parents. Everything Jackie disliked about him had been a gift from Bud and Edna, either directly passed down or developed in response to them.

He nuzzled his face into Jackie's sweaty hair. At least the Trolls were done with her for now, and Stagger didn't seem interested in her specifically.

"What's wrong with you, Hyde?" Donna shouted. "You should have untied me. We could've taken him out together."

Hyde shut his eyes. His headache hadn't gone away. "Damn it, I know, all right? I know."

"Yeah, ya dillhole!" Forman said. "You have to make out with Jackie every freakin' second?"

"Please, _please_ do not be hard on Hyde," Fez said. "He is cursed. It could be acting on him."

"What?" Hyde peered over Jackie at Fez. "She's still wearing the ring, man."

Fez nodded. "Yes, she carries most of the burden, but you are _both_ cursed. You probably feel some effect every time the curse tightens its hold on her."

Hyde pressed his lips against Jackie's temple and forced himself to remain calm, but Fez had just confirmed his own suspicions—that he forgot her whenever she lost a piece of herself. Last time, she'd lost her sight. What the hell had she lost now?

"Jackie, can you hear me?" he said, and she angled her head toward him. A good sign. "Blink if you can hear me." But her eyes remained open, a bad sign. "You look like a Troll."

She didn't respond, and his blood froze. She couldn't hear him anymore. She'd gone deaf.

He laid his head on her chest. Her heartbeat thumped against his ear, faster and faster, and he moved off her. But her mouth called out for him, and he returned to her chest, not knowing what else to do.

* * *

Kelso was laughing too hard, and his stomach pushed against the ropes tying him. A deep-freeze had set into his skin along with burning heat. The wound in his thigh throbbed, and Stagger picked him up, but he couldn't stop laughing. Stagger had grabbed Fez, too, and Fez sounded hilarious, shouting the way he was: "This is not a good day! This is not a good day!"

Stagger carried them both to the basement. His five uggo kids were crouching in a corner, looking terrified, and that made Kelso completely lose it. He sang, " _Stagger, Stagger, what a bragger. Can't find a shoe or a dagger."_

The Troll kids joined him, laughing, and Stagger bellowed, "Do you want me to demonstrate on _you_ what I'm going to do to Kelso and King Fez?"

The Troll kids shut up and squeezed together more tightly.

"Good. Prepare them!"

"Yes, Dad."

The Trolls kids cut off Kelso and Fez's ropes and fought over their shoes until Stagger's whip broke it up. They stripped Kelso and Fez down to their underwear, and Kelso shivered—even though he was sweating like crazy. Maybe the ember-spitting fireplace was to blame, creating topsy-turvy temperatures. Either that, or Kelso had a horrible fever. He could've used that bearskin rug on the wall as a blanket.

"Suck an Elf! What is that?" Thorny said, and his dagger poked the wound in Kelso thigh.

Pain shot from Kelso's leg to his eyes, driving all laughter from him. But he didn't collapse to the ground. He used Fez's shoulders to steady himself until his leg quit hurting.

"Ai, no..." Fez said.

"Aw, don't worry, buddy," Kelso said and patted Fez's back. "It's just a—OW! Ow! Ow! OW!" Each of the Troll kids took turns jabbing his wound, and he fell to the floor. Tears blurred his vision from the pain, but the Trolls' taunts were worse:

"Our sovereigns honored _this_ pathetic creature with Most Hated Enemy status? He's not worth the spit in my mouth."

"He is a weakling! Look at him twitch."

"My pet dung beetle is stronger than him.""You didn't eat that yet?"

"Enough!" Stagger lifted Kelso up and shoved him and Fez onto a large chair. He manacled their outer wrists to the chair's arms and their inner wrists to each other. Then a heavy bar was lowered onto their laps. The pressure on Kelso's legs, especially the left one, made him want to cry full-out. But he wouldn't do it, not in front of _Trolls._

"Watch, you fools," Stagger said to his kids. He leaned the chair back so Kelso and Fez's bare feet were in the air. Then he grabbed onto Fez's little toe

"Wait!" Kelso said. "Me, first!"

"Kelso, that is really noble of you," Fez said.

"I already feel like dying. Can't get much worse."

Stagger, though, ignored him and twisted Fez's toe. Fez yelped, and Kelso struggled weakly against his bonds.

"Why won't you let Trolls into the Second Kingdom Candy and Pie Expo?" Stagger shouted.

"Wha—what?" Fez said, and he cried out again as Stagger bent another of his toes backward. "Trolls will always win the eating contests!"

"Lies! " Stagger left the chair and picked up a hot poker from the fireplace. "Trolls are second-class citizens everywhere but their own kingdom."

The poker inched near Fez's face, and Thorny said, "See? I almost did that to the silent one!"

"Shut it!" Stagger held the poker in front of Fez's eye. "Our current sovereigns are too soft. When Relish was king, he would have invaded the Second Kingdom for this outrage."

Nausea rose in Kelso's stomach, but he had to do _something._ Stagger was threatening his best buddy. "Excuse me," Kelso said, "but maybe if Trolls weren't such hideously ugly bastards all the time, they'd be treated better."

"You think so, eh?" Stagger brought the poker close to Kelso's cheek without touching, but the heat of it shortened his breath.

"Yeah!" Kelso forced the word from his mouth. "I mean, Fez pardoned Relish's kids so they could be your rulers and fix up your stinky kingdom. He gave them a chance, and you're blowing it, man!"

Stagger grinned with his mouthful of sharp teeth, but he seemed anything but happy. He lowered the poker to Kelso's wound, and Kelso screamed louder than he had in his life. His nerves blazed with pain, like they'd been melted. His stomach clenched, and he let loose whatever was in it.

"You will be sent to Snow White Memorial Prison for this!" Fez said. "How dare you kidnap a king then torture him and his friends!"

"How dare _I?_ " Stagger was laughing deep from his belly. "You are in no position to—"

Something banged upstairs. More bangs followed, as if a large fist was punching through wooden boards.

"Thorny, Sunflower," Stagger said, "go see what that is!"

"Yes, Dad." The two Troll kids ran upstairs.

Kelso had a terrible taste in his mouth, and his head ached. If only someone would cut off his wounded and scorched leg, but he didn't verbalize that wish. Stagger would more than likely grant it.

"This is how it's done, my children," Stagger said. He plodded to the wall and pushed aside the bearskin rug, revealing a cubbyhole. Inside was a pair of iron slippers and a set of long tongs. He brought them to the fireplace and, using the tongs, placed the iron slippers on a rack above the fire.

He returned to the torture chair, and his foul breath shot up Kelso's nostrils. Even so, Kelso found it hard to focus. The sharp, hot pain in his leg had grown worse—like fire was burning through all his organs.

"You will dance for me," Stagger said. "And when you are finished dancing, I will have your heads and present them to our sovereigns."

"Won't it—won't it take..." Kelso's voice was raspy, "a long time for those shoes to heat up?"

"Ai... not long enough," Fez said.

The three remaining Troll kids encircled the chair and waved their daggers around. " _Make them dance, make them dance, make them dance!_ "

"I don't... wanna..." Kelso said.

Then he blacked out.

* * *

Kelso and Fez's screaming made Eric wish he were deaf, but the sounds coming from Donna's mouth were almost as bad. She was cursing and grunting and fighting against her ropes the way Hyde had when Jackie was downstairs. But she wasn't crying. Donna hated to cry, and Eric never really understood that. She was a girl. She was allowed to, maybe even _supposed_ to cry. And her lack of tears caused them to rise in his own eyes too damn often—like they were threatening to now. Because they were all dead. All painfully, _painfully_ dead.

Donna stopped struggling for a moment and whispered, "Hey, do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Eric said.

"Nothing."

Eric sighed. "Just tell me, Donna."

"That's what she means, Forman," Hyde said. " _Nothing._ No more screaming."

The beating of Eric's heart grew louder in the silence. Did the end of his friends' screams mean Kelso and Fez were... done? He shut his eyes and did something he hadn't in a very long time. He began to pray.

Seconds later, a thunderous knock rattled the front door.

"What the hell is that?" Hyde said.

Eric glanced through the stone archway leading to the door. The barest of voices were muttering outside, but he heard them. "Could be a traveling Troll-dust salesman," he said.

"Or Jehovah's Witnesses," Donna said. "You know, if they found a way through the mirror, they would _so_ be going from door-to-door."

Eric chuckled. Despite everything, she could still make him laugh.

Heavy footsteps vibrated from the basement stairs, and he braced himself for news of his friends' demise. Hyde, meanwhile, maneuvered himself protectively over Jackie as Thorny and Sunflower charged into the living room.

"I'll open it!" Thorny said.

"No, me!" Sunflower said.

They reached the front door at the same time and yanked it open. Four people were standing outside. Their presence made Eric gasp while Donna and Hyde swore. Burly, Blabberwort, and Bluebell—the Troll Kingdom's sovereigns— had come to Stagger's home. With them, clad in a Troll's leather armor, was Big Rhonda.


	38. An Honorary Troll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 38  
 **AN HONORARY TROLL**  


"Rhonda?" Eric, Donna, and Hyde said together.

Eric thought he was dreaming. Not that being in the Nine Kingdoms in and of itself wasn't like a dream. But he'd gotten used to the idea Fez was Snow White's grandson and that magic was real. Seeing Rhonda in Stagger's doorway with the Troll Kingdoms' sovereigns was something else entirely.

"Y—Y—Your Majesties," the Troll kids said at the door and bowed low. "What c—can we do for you?"

"Where is your father, young ones?" Burly said. He was taller and broader than Darth Vader. His sister was almost as large, and all three of the sovereigns had golden crowns on their heads and were as ugly as ever—tusk-like teeth, bulbous noses pierced with silver rings.

Blabberwort, the Queen, wore her orange hair through the crown so it tufted out like a fountain. And Bluebell, the smallest—and meanest, according to Kelso—held his dagger as if he were ready for a fight.

"He is downstairs," Sunflower said.

Blabberwort growled. "Fetch him!"

"Yes, Your Majesties!" Sunflower darted across the living room and hopped over Eric, Hyde, and Donna's bound ankles. Her straw-like hair fell over her face, and she vanished down the basement stairs.

Thorny, though, hadn't stopped bowing. His leather-clad arms were shaking, and his prone position kept the Troll sovereigns and Rhonda outside the door.

"Rhonda!" Eric, Donna, and Hyde shouted. "Over here! Rhonda!"

"Eric?" Rhonda peered past Thorny and through the stone archway. "Wow! This is incredible!" She snorted her snorty laugh. "Your Majesties, these are my friends." Then she stepped inside the house, but Thorny straightened up and wouldn't let her through the archway.

"Why are they all tied up?" Rhonda said. She stood on her toes and looked past Thorny's shoulder. "Is my Coco P—Is Fez here?"

"Yes!" Eric, Donna, and Hyde all said.

"They're torturing him downstairs, man," Hyde said.

"What?" Burly barged into the house with his siblings and shoved Thorny out of the way. "Suck an Elf! This is going to be an inter-kingdom incident!"

The Troll sovereigns lumbered into the house and toward the stairs. Thorny didn't follow. He probably thought it was safer that way, but Rhonda grabbed his large, pointy ears.

"What's going on?" she said. Her grip on Thorny's ears must have strengthened because he collapsed to his knees. "I want answers, and I want 'em now!"

"I—I love you," Thorny said. His face contorted into a combination of pain and admiration.

She sighed and let him go.

"Rhon-Da touched me!" He skimmed his fingers along his ears, and his mouth broke into a toothy grin. Then he ran downstairs after the Troll sovereigns. "She touched me!"

Rhonda laughed, deep and snorty. "Kids!"

"Hey, Rhonda, _I'll_ tell you what's going on if you freakin' cut us loose!" Hyde said.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Her face flushed, but she pulled a sharp knife from her boot. She hurried into the living room and freed Hyde first. "Oh, no! Hyde, you're bleeding."

Hyde touched the underside of his chin and looked at his fingers. "Nah. That's just fresh 'old' blood. Bleeding's stopped."

Yelling and sharp bangs issued from the basement as Rhonda cut the ropes off Jackie, Donna, and Eric. The Troll sovereigns couldn't have been happy with Stagger and his brood, especially if Fez's corpse was lying on the basement door.

"Let's go," Rhonda said when everyone was free. She headed for the stairs.

But Eric found it hard to walk. His whole body was stiff and sore from being tied up so long. Donna waited for him by the stairs, and he managed to get to her. She slid her arms around his waist and pulled him against her body. He didn't want her to let go, but Rhonda's, "Come on, guys!" made Donna loosen her grip and pull him down the first step.

"Wait." Eric glanced behind him at Hyde, who had Jackie in his arms.

"We're cool up here," Hyde said, and Eric nodded. Whatever was going down in that basement probably wasn't safe, and Jackie was too vulnerable to be put in any kind of danger.

Eric hesitated at that thought. He didn't want to be put in danger himself, but Donna dragged him down the stairs.

* * *

Fez braced himself as Stagger's hot poker approached his eye. Having depth perception was nice while it lasted, but the heat left his face before doing any damage. Footsteps were thudding down the basement stairs, and Stagger turned around. His daughter, Sunflower, had returned. Her blonde hair was plastered over her forehead.

"D—D—D—D—Dad!" she sputtered. "The—the—the..."

"'The' what?" Stagger raised the hot poker threateningly to her mouth. "Spit it out."

"Majesties!" she said, and the poker dropped to the floor with a metallic _clank!_

The Troll Kingdom's sovereigns marched into the basement, and tears rose in Fez's eyes. They would either save him—or finish the job. He and Kelso were like jarred Pixies, trapped in Stagger's torture chair. And Kelso was already unconscious

Sunflower and Stagger prostrated themselves at the Troll sovereigns' feet. The two remaining Troll boys did the same beside the chair, and Stagger said, "What have I done to earn this visit, Your Majesties?"

"We are doing our tri-monthly visit to each village," Blabberwort said, and shame burned inside Fez's chest. The Trolls had been taking their royal duties more seriously than him. "And you will free King Fez and Sir Kelso _now!_ "

Stagger and his children scrambled to the chair. They raised up the heavy bar across Fez and Kelso's thighs and unlocked the shackles binding their wrists.

"But, Dad," one of the Troll boys dared to say, "why do we have to free Kelso? Don't we get our ten-thousand shoes?"

Bluebell stepped forward and yanked the Troll boy away from the chair. Then he pointed his distinct wavy-bladed dagger—a _kris_ —at Kelso's wound. "Sir Kelso has been incapacitated by a Duergar bite. Not a fair battle." His gravelly voice seemed to cow the boy because he began to shake. "There's more fun to be had with him alive than dead."

"Then why is he our Most Hated Enemy?" Sunflower said.

Burly moved toward the chair. The light from the fireplace flickered over his leather armor, and he reached behind his back. "It is a position of honor." He pulled his axe from its sheathe and raised it in one hand, a Troll gesture of respect. "We say, 'Stab a Kelso!' not in anger but in honor of him. He is the enemy who can never be vanquished."

"We are most sorry, Your Highness," Blabberwort said to Fez. She helped him from the chair, and his legs wobbled . He'd have to get used to standing before gathering his clothes. They were scattered on the basement's earthen floor.

"Stagger and his children will be punished," Burly said. His deep voice had taken on a kingly quality since the last time Fez had met with him. "I hope this incident has not destroyed our truce.

"It hasn't." Fez studied Kelso's unconscious body for signs of life. Kelso's head and torso had slipped sideways on the chair, but his chest moved up and down. He was breathing. "I know these Troll Nation citizens were not acting under your orders."

Fez knelt by Kelso's legs to get a closer view. Stagger's hot poker had fried some flesh in the Duergar wound, but at least the maggots were gone. Kelso's thigh now looked as though searing claws had gouged a chunk of it.

"Ai, my poor friend." Fez brought his face even closer to the wound, but a familiar and lovely voice reached him from the stairs.

"Coco Puff? Coco Puff, are ya down here?"

Fez glanced toward the stairs, "Rhonda?" and his heart could have burst at the vision in front of him. His Mashed Potato had entered the dimly-lit basement. She was walking to him, clothed in Trollish leather armor. Her hair had been styled in the Troll way, too, teased into a strawberry-blonde cloud over her head.

She was as tall and galumph-y and beautiful as ever, and he couldn't speak—partly from shock at her presence, but mostly from the embrace of her muscular arms. She was squeezing the breath right out of him.

"Rhonda, I am happy to see you," he eked out, "but you are crushing me."

"Oh." She let him go. "Sorry. I'm used to Trolls."

Fez coughed painfully, but his bruising ribs disturbed him far less than Rhonda's statement. What Trolls had she been hugging? "How did you get here?" he said and looked her voluptuous body up and down. A number of weapons dangled from her belt. " _Why_ are you here? I am so confused."

"Well, I—" Rhonda started, but Donna and Eric rushed downstairs.

"Fez— _Kelso?_ " Donna ran past the Troll Kingdom's sovereigns to the chair, and she placed two fingers on Kelso's neck. "His pulse is weak... What happened?" She turned on Stagger and his children, who were all cowering by the fireplace. "What did you bastards do to—"

Eric grasped her shoulders and pulled her from the chair. "Donna, ixnay on the age-ray. Olls-tray an-cay ick-kay our-ay asses-ay."

Pig Latin. Fez never did quite get the hang of it, but the gist was clear. He pressed the back of his hand to Kelso's forehead. He was burning up. "Ai..." Fez looked at his friends, "Kelso is not well."

"He needs food," Burly said and patted his belly.

"Yes, sustenance," Blabberwort agreed.

Bluebell jabbed his sharp, wavy kris toward Stagger. "I smell meat in your house."

"Yes, dinner is in the oven," Stagger said. "It should be finished by now." His knobby finger traced over the outline of his crude eye patch, and Fez felt a measure of satisfaction. Kelso had given that Troll his just desserts...

"Kelso will need dessert, too," Fez said. "Sweets fortify the blood."

Blabberwort nodded. "Nicey-nice." Then she slammed her leather-clad fist into her palm. "Stagger, you and your children set up the meal. We demand nourishment!"

"But we eat little enough as it is!" a Troll boy said.

"You will be lucky if you eat at all after what you've done!" Burly raised his axe with two hands this time, a Troll gesture of hostility. He charged at Stagger and his children—a frightening sight for anyone—and chased them upstairs.

Blabberwort ran after them and said, "I don't want them harmed until we eat."

Bluebell followed, too, but stopped at the third step. He addressed Fez, "Join us before the food gets cold," then disappeared up the stairs.

Fez returned his attention to Kelso's wound. It was so ugly and oozing and charred, but he had a job to do. He knelt down and moved his face toward the disgusting injury—

"Fez, what're you doing?" Eric said.

"What do you think, fool? Saving Kelso's life!"

Fez dropped a kiss on the outer edge of the gaping wound, and the surrounding redness faded. Relief filled him, and he laid soft kisses all around the crusty circumference. The wound shrank at his touch until only a light pink blotch remained.

Kelso's eyes fluttered open. "Wha...?" He sat up straight on Stagger's torture chair. "Why don't I hurt?" Then he glanced down at his thigh and a huge, goofy grin spread across his face. "All right! My wound healed, and I didn't even need true love." He raised his arms in the air. "I'm stronger than Hyde! Burn!"

"Actually, Kelso, _Fez_ is your true love," Donna said.

Kelso stared at Fez, and blood rushed into Fez's face. He was still kneeling, and he patted Kelso's bare foot. "I kissed you to health."

"Oh, my God," Eric said. "Hyde was right. I owe him a hundred bucks."

Kelso jumped out of the chair and covered his nipples. "What? No, no. I'm dreaming, right? The Trolls tortured me into hallucinations! I don't want Fez to be my true love."

"You are _not_ my true love," Fez said. He stood up and clasped Kelso's shoulder. "I just love you truly. That works almost as well."

"Aw, Fez," Rhonda pressed a palm to her heart, "that's so darned sweet."

"Yes, like candy..." Fez's stomach was growling. The scent of cooked meat had made its way down the basement. "We should go upstairs and eat."

"With the Trolls?" Donna said.

Fez picked up his clothes off the floor. "I trust the Troll Kingdom's sovereigns. I gained their loyalty when I pardoned them, and what better way to reaffirm our truce than by sharing a meal?"

"I agree," Eric said. "Food makes the world go 'round." He grabbed Kelso's clothes from the corner and tossed them to him.

Kelso dressed without trouble, as if he'd never been injured, and Fez suppressed a happy cry. He threw himself into Kelso's arms, though—an unkingly act, to be sure, but one of a friend.

"I'm okay, buddy," Kelso said and hugged him back. "Thanks for makin' out with my rancid sore. I hope it didn't give you any tongue."

"It didn't." Fez squeezed Kelso tighter and fought the tears threatening to leave him. "Oh, Kelso, you have saved my life so many times—"

"Yeah, but you always let me have the hotter chicks hitting on us, so we're even."

"Yes, yes... I 'let' you. I'm very magnanimous that way." Fez let him go. Truth was, Fez would never have his friend's way with women, but that didn't matter. Kelso would be fine now, and he was one less person Fez had to worry about.

"Fez, we're not going up the stairs first," Donna said. She had found Jackie's shoes and stuffed them under her arm.

"Oh, the Trolls are harmless once you get to know them," Rhonda said. "Like kittens." She slipped her hand into Fez's, and his skin tingled at the contact.

"'Like kittens'?" Donna mouthed to Eric.

" _Saber-toothed tiger_ kittens," Eric said.

Rhonda led the way upstairs, and Fez kept his body very close to hers, savoring every second she chose to hold his hand. He still had no idea how she was here, but he was so glad she was.

* * *

Jackie was free.

Well, her arms and legs were. Someone had cut the ropes off her, and now she was being lifted up. She cried out when the burns on her heels touched the floor. More damn tears welled in her blind eyes, and she stood on her toes, but strong, familiar arms wrapped themselves around her. _Steven's._ She knew the feeling of them.

He picked her up so her legs dangled over one of his arms. Her feet were touching nothing but air, and his other arm supported her back. He must have known she was burned. Her heels still hurt, but they were better without her weight on them.

She hooked her own arms behind his neck and pressed her cheek against his chest. His heart was beating against her ear. _Definitely Steven._ But if he were speaking, too, she didn't know. Her ears took in nothing. She had to rely on the senses she had left—touch and smell and taste. She inhaled the scent of his shirt. It smelled a little fibrous, like the ropes that had bound her, and like his sweat. She knew that odor well, and it didn't bother her. In fact, she depended on it now.

He was stroking the back of her hair, but his touch didn't calm her. She had no way of telling if they were safe—or if this was their last moment before the Trolls killed them.

She balled her fists in his shirt and raised her chin. He needed to see her lips. "Are we okay?"she said slowly.

He disentangled one of her hands from his shirt and placed it on the side of his face. His sideburn fuzzed against her skin, tickled her palm. She was thankful for the feeling, thankful for anything that made it easier to tell it was him. His head was nodding up and down. They _were_ safe.

She puckered her lips for a kiss, and he got her message. He kissed her once, briefly. Then his mouth moved in deeper, and his rhythm was as familiar to her as his voice, full of subtle intensity. She let herself get lost in the kiss, lost in _him,_ but he broke off the contact. He put her down on the floor and yanked her back. Having to walk on her burned heels brought more tears. They hurt so damn much. Why couldn't the curse have stolen _that_ from her, the ability to feel pain?

Steven's back pushed up against her, and she hugged his waist. Heavy vibrations went through the floor to her raw, throbbing feet. She wiped her tears on Steven's corduroy jacket. The vibrations were growing stronger... then weaker.. Then they were gone.

Steven withdrew from her arms but only for a moment. He'd turned around. The kiss on her forehead told her that. He'd been protecting her from something, but the danger seemed to have passed.

Her heart couldn't take much more of this. It was pounding so hard in her chest, in her heels, and behind her ear where the Trolls had burned her, too. She slipped her hands down Steven's back and found his denim-clad butt. She gave it a squeeze, which always made her feel better. His stomach contracted in response. It bounced against her, as if he were laughing, and that made her laugh, too.

She glanced up, aching to see his face, but only darkness stared back. She loved the way he looked when he laughed. His blue eyes would narrow and—if he were particularly amused—they'd produce the only tears he ever let out. And his smile... _God_ , she missed his smile, so full of mischief and warmth. His tongue pushed against his teeth sometimes and made an appearance, just like a little boy.

He was utterly beautiful to her, in a way that radiated from his insides and shone through his face. The thought of never seeing him again threatened to drown her. She'd give up all the sunsets she'd ever witnessed to gaze at Steven's face one more minute.

Her fingers reached up to his mouth. She needed to feel his smile. Her thumb found his stubbly chin and traced over his lips. She touched his cheek, too, and it was plumped out. He was still smiling for her, still laughing.

"Steven," she said, "you're beautiful."

Her voice sounded clear to her, as if it had finally escaped her throat—but that was impossible. No matter how desperate she was for him to hear her, to understand how she felt about him, the curse had her firmly in its pressed his fuzzy cheek into her smooth one, and his breath warmed her ear in six puffs. He'd said something back. It could've been anything, but then his finger brushed over her lips.

"What?" she said, and she was answered by him picking her up again. He held her body close and rested his chin on top of her head. She grunted. They would have to figure out a real way to communicate, or she'd go completely mad.

His chin raised off her head after a moment, and he grasped her left hand. He was tugging on her ring, and she didn't stop him. He could pull her finger off, but the ring wouldn't budge. Her will to keep wearing it surprised even her, but it was the answer to a simple question: Did she choose herself or Steven? Yes, she—Jackie Burkhart—was willing to give herself up.

For him.

* * *

"Steven, you're beautiful."

Hyde's heart expanded in his chest. He'd heard her, heard Jackie's voice. "Jackie," he said into her ear, "say something else." No response, so he ran his thumb over her lips and hoped she'd get the message.

"What?" she mouthed.

He shut his eyes. It was just a fluke, man. A damn tease. But it was something. He scooped her back into his arms and tucked her head under his chin. He'd been laughing before, genuinely amused she'd grabbed his ass in the midst of all this crap. It might have been the first time he'd felt something nice—without any grief attached—since this shit started. If that had weakened the curse, even momentarily... but he couldn't fake it. Feeling something good, purely good without any freakin' downside had been hard enough to do even before the goddamn curse.

He had to try again. He grabbed Jackie's engagement ring and yanked. She didn't fight him. Not with her body, but her will was clear. She didn't want the ring to come off, so it wasn't coming off.

The scent of cooked meat wafted in from the kitchen. The Troll sovereigns were inside with Stagger and his brats. Hyde had pulled Jackie behind him when the Trolls all flooded out of the basement, but they'd gone straight to the kitchen. Maybe he and Jackie hadn't been visible beneath the stone arch. He would've hightailed it out the house afterward, carrying Jackie in his arms, but their friends were still downstairs. Their voices carried into the living room, and they were growing louder.

"I totally stayed conscious when he stuck it in my leg," Kelso said. He emerged from the stairs with Fez and Big Rhonda. Eric and Donna followed, and they were all chatting it up as if this were a party.

Hyde scowled at them. "What put you dillholes in a good mood?"

"What the hell put you in a lousy one?" Forman said. "We're not gonna die. Kelso's gonna be fine. We're about to eat—"

"No, we're getting the fuck outta here." Hyde brought Jackie to the front door, but Fez ran up to him and touched his arm.

"Please, Hyde, we need to eat. And don't you want to hear how Rhonda got here? I am needy with anticipation."

" _Fez,_ " Hyde said warningly, but he wasn't looking at Fez. He was looking at Jackie. Her face had grown red. Her eyes remained wet, but she wasn't crying. Her feet. They must have hurt like hell with those burns. "I heard her, man. Just a few words, but she had her voice back."

"That is interesting, yes." Fez was pulling Hyde back into the house. "You don't have to worry about Stagger or his children. They are under control. Jackie needs food. We all need food if we're going to travel through Red Riding Hood Forest. There will be wolves there."

_Wolves._ Hyde nodded. Wolves meant danger and, possibly, answers to the curse. He pressed a kiss into Jackie's temple and followed their friends into Stagger's kitchen.

Stagger was standing at a counter next to a crude-looking stove. His brats were cowering in the corner while he carved a boar that didn't look half-bad. Hyde knew too well about having an asshole for a parent—two, in fact—but he couldn't forgive the little shits for what they'd done to Jackie or his friends.

A sanded-down oak stump served as a table in the middle of the kitchen. Burly, Blabberwort, and Bluebell were sitting already, crowns askew on their greasy hair. Rhonda sat between Burly and Fez. She seemed completely unfazed by the Trolls, and Hyde actually was curious about how she'd ended up here.

Stagger's brats eyed Kelso as he sat down next to Fez. They said nothing, but Hyde knew the look. They were disappointed Kelso hadn't kicked the bucket. In fact, Kelso appeared healthier than he had in days, had color in his cheeks.

"You feeling better?" Hyde said to him.

Kelso smiled brightly. "Loads!"

"Fez kissed his booboo," Donna said and took a seat next to Forman.

Hyde chuckled and put Jackie down in a chair. "Forman, you owe me a hundred bucks."

"When we're back home, it's yours, pal," Forman said.

Kelso slammed the table with the flat of his hand. "Fez is not my true love!"

Hyde sat and kept his arm around Jackie's shoulders. He couldn't let her out of his touch for even a second anymore. She had no way of knowing what was going on. He had no way of telling her. If he'd been in the one in that position, he would've gone nuts by now.

He ran a hand over his face, wishing he could put on his shades. Surprisingly, they were still intact and hooked to his shirt collar. But he had to keep them off, for her. She was brave enough to keep on that ring. He had to be brave enough to let himself be seen.

His fingers rubbed the nape of his neck as a lump formed in his throat, hard as stone. _Hell,_ it was more than bravery that made her keep on that ring. Never in his life did he think someone could love him that much, _suffer_ that much for him. And it was _Jackie,_ man. Selfish, self-centered Jackie— the bravest, most loving chick he'd ever known.

"You okay, Hyde?" Donna said.

"Super." He quit rubbing the back of his neck and looked over at Stagger. "Where's the damn grub?"

Burly, Blabberwort, and Bluebell all banged their silverware on the oak-stump table and shouted, "Food! Food! Food!"

Stagger's brats stood up from the corner. They rushed to put plates down. Then Stagger served the boar and poured glasses of water.

Hyde cut up Jackie's portion. She was sitting lotus-style on the chair, probably so her burned heels wouldn't have to touch anything. He brought a piece of boar beneath her nose and tapped it on her lips. Thankfully, she opened her mouth and ate without a fight.

He pecked her cheek to communicate his thoughts. The last thing they needed was for her to starve herself, and she seemed to understand that, despite the pain she was feeling.

"Rhonda, how _did_ you get here?" Donna said. She wiped some boar juice off her chin.

Oh, it's a real humdinger!" Rhonda laughed and snorted. "After I saw Fez at the wedding—"

Donna's eyes widened. "Our wedding?"

"Would you let her speak, woman?" Fez said. "Rhonda, please, continue."

"I just felt so bad how we'd ended things. I'd..." Rhonda gave Fez's wrist a squeeze— _too hard_ a squeeze, it seemed. He'd dropped his knife. "Fez, I never got over ya. I followed you, Kelso, and Burkhart through Mt. Hump Park and saw you jump into—well, I guess it was that mirror. I wanted to jump in after you, but I waited 'cause I just wasn't sure what I'd seen."

She grabbed her glass of water and drank it down in one gulp. Thorny refilled it, and she said, "So I went back to the apartment I share with Mitch. I had to sleep on it—"

"The whole apartment building?" Kelso said, and Fez elbowed him. But Hyde would throw his fork at the next person who interrupted the story because Rhonda needed to get on with it.

"I dreamt about you all night, Fezzy," she continued. "In the morning I went back to Mount Hump. I tried to find the place you'd gone, did a lot of jumping, but then the strangest thing happened. A pebble hit me in the face. Then another, but no one was there. They were flying at me from a shadow between the trees."

"Weylin and Bucardo!" Kelso slammed the table again. "Those little bastards. I keep telling 'em not to throw rocks outta the mirror."

"Maybe if you hadn't done it yourself," Fez said. "They're your apprentices. They are your respons—ai!"

Hyde's fork landed between Fez and Kelso's plates. "Shut up and let her finish," Hyde said. "And gimme back my fork."

"The pebbles kept hitting me," Rhonda said, "but I leapt into that shadow, and it felt like I was being sucked through a straw. Then I was spat into a fancy-looking room. High ceilings and stone floor, torches in golden sconces. These two kids playing soldier seemed pretty freaked out I was there. They told me to go back through the mirror, but I said, 'I'm a friend of Fez's. Where is he?'

"'On King's duty,' one of the kids said, and the other kid punched his arm. Then they both grabbed me and tried to shove me into the mirror, but I easily slipped free. They were so puny and couldn't catch me as I ran out of the room.

"I had to find you, Coco Puff, to—to tell you how I feel," Rhonda's cheeks flushed, and she paused a moment, "but I was so confused. A violet carpet lined a huge hallway, and guards making their rounds appeared and disappeared through doors. Then I realized I was in a castle—"

"My castle," Fez said. "Did you like it?"

Rhonda stuffed a huge chunk of boar into her mouth and spoke while chewing. "Yeah, it's really nice. I only saw it for a few minutes, though. A friendly gal told me where to find you. She had a silver snowflake pin on her jacket—"

Fez nodded. "Aubrey. _He_ is an excellent attendant."

"'He'?" Rhonda snorted. "I could've sworn it was a woman. Anyway, he told me you were in the First Kingdom. I asked for directions, and he was polite enough to give me a map and escort me out of the castle. I went through a forest and fought off some wolves. I broke the neck of one. It gave me no choice, and the rest ran off."

"Oh, God—Rhonda!" Fez checked her body over, ran his hands down her arms.

Rhonda laughed, as if what Fez was doing tickled. "The wolves didn't have a chance. I'd climbed a tree. They couldn't follow, and I got the drop on them."

"Did their eyes glow orange?" Fez said.

"No."

Fez resumed eating without another word, but Hyde got it. Those had been run-of-the-mill wolves. Actual _animals,_ not the nasty S.O.B.s after Jackie's ring.

"Then I wrestled with a bear," Rhonda said, and Hyde choked on a piece of boar. He pounded his chest to make it go down. _Wrestled a bear?_

Had it been anyone else telling this story, he would have called "Bullshit," but Rhonda could've done it. She was scary-strong, man. One winter, she'd stopped the Camino from skidding down an icy road with just her hip. Cracked his taillight, but she'd kept him from running anyone over... She had to be half-Giant.

"It was such a cool night," Rhonda said, smiling. "A Troll was in that forest, too. I fought with him, and I would've won, but he had that pink dust and knocked me out. Next thing I know, I'm being prepped for the Troll Nation Wrestling Championship."

"And she won!" Bluebell shouted. Chewed-up boar dribbled out of his mouth, and he shoved it back in.

"It was an excellent night of battles," Blabberwort said. "Our subjects love her, and traveling with her has been very good for the country's morale. She's participated in local wrestling showcases."

Burly banged the table, "She is an honorary Troll!"

"Wow, that's... great," Donna said, and but unasked questions were stuck in her throat. Hyde spotted the signs: her wrinkled brow, how she took a drink of water immediately after she spoke. She was a journalist, man, through-and-through.

"It's been a lot of fun, but I'm so glad to see ya, Fez!" Rhonda leaned in for a kiss, and Fez kissed her back—a peck more than anything. He couldn't have wanted to show vulnerability in front of the Trolls. "I'm sorry for running away when—"

"Can we talk about this later?" Fez said. "In private?"

"Sure." Rhonda tousled Fez's hair then returned to her meal.

Hyde returned his own focus to Jackie. She'd taken her fork from him to eat, but she was eating slowly. Had to be damn hard with those burns on her heels. They were red, raw, and blistered. She wasn't gonna be able to walk for a while thanks to Stagger and his brats. They were eating scraps in the corner of the kitchen, and they must've caught Hyde staring at them because they started to growl.

"Shut up!" Stagger shouted at them.

"But, Dad," Thorny said, "sheep-hair is challenging us!"

He wasn't wrong. Hyde wanted to kick their asses.

Bluebell laughed. Food and water spilled from his mouth, and he pointed his wavy dagger at Hyde. "Why do you challenge Stagger's children?"

Hyde said nothing and tore into a piece of boar. Jackie needed him to be cool, aloof. He could be pissed later when she was safe.

"Oh," Blabberwort peered over the oak-stump table at Jackie, "the Tenth Kingdom witch's feet have been burned."

The word "witch" raised Hyde's hackles, but during Jackie's first encounter with the Trolls, she'd trapped them in an elevator. They'd thought she was a witch for that.

_"It's kind of flattering,_ " Jackie had told him months ago, in the safety of Forman's basement, _"to think such huge, ugly things find me powerful._ " But what he remembered most from that afternoon, when they were catching each other up, was her laughter and the self-assured flip of her hair.

"Is the witch yours?" Burly said.

"Yup," Hyde said.

"You have chosen a mighty woman."

"Don't have to tell me, man. I know."

Burly dug into a pouch on his belt and pulled out some long, green leaves. They narrowed to a point and were slicked with some kind of oil. "Butter leaf," Burly said. They were passed from Troll-to-Troll, person-to-person until they reached Hyde.

"Hey," Forman said, "those're the same kind of leaves Fez and I got during the Jack-Be-Nimble competition."

"We're always burning ourselves, so we keep it on us." Blabberwort said.

"Yes." Bluebell was frowning, and his bulbous nose hooked over his upper lip. "Fire is a fickle friend."

Hyde rubbed one of the leaves on Jackie's heel. She gasped silently as the blisters dissolved away, leaving only smooth, pink skin.

"Like aloe," Donna said.

"Better than aloe." Hyde used another leaf on Jackie's other heel. A third did nothing for her bruised cheek, though, so he used it on the burn behind her ear. Then he kissed the spot, and she fumbled for his hands. He grasped hers.

She peppered soft kisses over the tops of his fingers. Her lashes were wet from tears, but she was smiling when she lifted her head. Had to be from relief, but she shouldn't have needed to be healed in the first place.

Anger blazed beneath Hyde's skin, as searing and painful as any burn, and no butter leaf could take it from him. He had to rely on old survival tricks—and hope they didn't make him too cold, especially toward the one person who deserved all the warmth he had. But his feelings weren't important right now. All that mattered was keeping Jackie as comfortable as possible while he figured out who cursed them...

Which meant finding a wolf.


	39. Truth's Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. "Tommy, Can You Hear Me?" (C) 2008 Geffen Records.

CHAPTER 39  
 **TRUTH'S BEGINNING**  


Eric had almost died twice in the last twenty-four hours. That was two-times more than his usual daily desire for death—which happened to be zero. He could have slept for a week, but they had to get moving.

He and Donna had gone barefoot for too long. Fortunately, they'd each been given a pair of shoes. The Troll Kingdom's sovereigns carried a vast supply of footwear with them to toss at their citizens. "Good for fostering loyalty," Burly claimed, but Eric was glad to have something on his feet.

The Trolls also offered them passage to the Second Kingdom on their wagon. Straw and wool blankets covered the back, making the ride pleasant enough. And the horses stayed on the trail instead of swerving. Burly, Blabberwort, and Bluebell were up front on the driver's box and, thankfully, sober. Fez had officially invited their kingdom to participate in the Pie and Candy Expo, putting them in a good mood. They sang Bee Gees songs with gusto and modified the lyrics, recounting their rise to the Troll Nation throne.

The details of those lyrics, however, were lost on Eric. He was too busy checking the blankets for flare bugs. No way would he go through light poisoning again... or let any of his friends go through it, either. But to his relief, the blankets weren't infested. They could be used without worry, and he intended to. The cold night air was cutting through the sleeves of his jacket, the one Kelso had let him borrow.

Donna seemed bothered by the temperature just as much. She was shivering at Eric's side with Fez's jacket buttoned up to her chin, and—despite wearing Rhonda's spare pair of leather pants—her hands were icy. Eric covered her and himself with a blanket. Then he rubbed her hands warm as she snuggled into him.

"Look at Rhonda and Fez," she whispered, and he glanced across the wagon. Fez and Rhonda were speaking together in hushed tones when they weren't kissing. They seemed to be back together, just like that.

Kelso was watching them, too, seated away from everyone else. A pile of straw was in his lap, and he shredded individual stalks of it as Fez and Rhonda made out. He couldn't have been too happy about her presence here. Fez was the one Kelso usually spent time with on long journeys.

"Hey, Hyde—" Kelso said, "Hyde, look at Fez and Rhonda slobbering all over each other," but Hyde was incommunicado. A lit joint was in his mouth. His sunglasses covered his eyes, and he faced outward, away from everyone.

Eric doubted Hyde could see very much. Tonight's sky provided little light. Clouds obscured the stars and the half-moon, and the Troll Kingdom's barren countryside rolled past the wagon. To Eric's eyes, the view was dim, like a room lit by a single candle. But with those sunglasses on, Hyde must have been as blind as Jackie. She lay partially over his lap, stomach-side down. Her head rested on his thigh, and one of his hands slid beneath her shirt. She probably needed to feel his skin, not just the weight of his fingers.

The curse's hold on them was growing stronger, and neither Eric nor Donna would go home until they were free. Fez believed he could enlist his fellow sovereigns' help in a few days—at something called the Council of the Nine—and Eric was all for it. His honeymoon with Donna had so far been spent watching their friends suffer.

The wagon trundled into a residential neighborhood of adobe houses, and Troll parents with their Troll children ran outside. Burly, Blabberwort, and Bluebell hurled leather shoes at them, shouting, "We're gonna enter the Candy and Pie Expo this year!"

The Troll families shouted back, "Victory for the Troll Nation!" And one of the Troll fathers tossed his daughter in the air— _way_ up in the air—and caught her. Then he did something Eric never expected from a Troll; he pressed a tender kiss on his child's cheek.

"Wow, they're just like us..." Eric blurted; his surprise had overwhelmed him. Despite their gruesome appearance—and some abusive Troll parents like Stagger—Trolls were just people. Humans wrought their own share of violence, didn't they? And with that thought Eric closed his eyes.

He needed to get some sleep, but his mind wouldn't shut off. The "beginning of the truth" was stuffed inside his jacket pocket, burning through his exhaustion.

"Donna," he said and opened his eyes," I want to see what's inside the envelope."

Donna murmured something unintelligible. She'd laid her head on Eric's shoulder, clearly not having the same problem as him. He touched his lips to the top of her head and pulled out the red envelope. It was a wedding gift from his cousin Penny. But whatever was inside couldn't have been a good thing. Why else would Fez have taken it?

Eric looked over at him again, but Fez's eyes were only for Rhonda. The sight kindled hot anger in the pit of Eric's stomach, anger that had lain cold and dormant for eight months. All those years ago, if Fez had taken his advice to be patient with Rhonda—instead of Casey Kelso's suggestion to molest her—she wouldn't have run off. She and Fez might have gotten married, Fez never would've married Laurie, and Laurie wouldn't have gone through the mirror... or been killed by Eric's hands.

Eric stuffed the envelope back into his pocket. He had to wait. Whatever truth was inside, he wanted to face it with Donna, as husband-and-wife.

"Hey, can I have some of that?" Kelso reached for Hyde's joint. Hyde had kept it to himself so far, but he let Kelso have a pull. "So Jackie's really deaf, huh?" .

"Yup." Hyde lay back on the straw with the joint stuck between his lips. His legs straightened out, and Jackie stirred in his lap. "Hey, come 'ere." He sat up a little and guided her to lie on his chest. Then he put the joint to her lips, but she pushed it away.

"If only we had a pinball machine," Kelso said.

Hyde didn't ask why, but Eric had to know and said, "A pinball machine?"

"'Tommy, can you hear me?'" Kelso sang in a soft voice. "'Can you feel me near you?'"

The song was from The Who's _Tommy,_ and Eric understood. Tommy couldn't talk. He couldn't see, couldn't hear... just like Jackie.

Hyde didn't say anything about it. He smoked the joint down to a nub and passed it to Eric a half-inch before it would become roach. Not much smoke was left, but Eric was grateful for what there was. Maybe he'd get a little sleep after all.

The wagon fell into silence then. Even the Trolls had tired of singing _The Bee Gees' Greatest Toll Hits._ Only the roll of the wagon's wheels rumbled in the night until—after a long delay—Hyde said, "Tommy's mother broke a mirror, man. That's what brought him back."

* * *

Steven's face shone brightly beneath the blue sky. Jackie could finally see him, but he wasn't smiling. Their bare feet were in the grass, and Mt. Hump Park's familiar hills rose up all around them. They had to be in Pleasant Field, a place where he loved chasing her whenever they had picnics. He should have been smiling.

"You?" he said. His arms hung limply at his sides, and he stood very still. She knew this stance. He'd separated himself from something painful inside his mind.

"I see you, baby," she said and stepped forward. She touched his face, but he didn't react. His skin felt cold, like stone.

"You?" he said again.

She cradled his cheek, hoping he would lean into her hand. He didn't.

"You! You!" He was shouting for her, as if he couldn't tell she was in front of him.

"Steven, I hear you. I hear you!"

His eyes found hers and clearly registered her presence. Maybe he even heard her, so what was wrong?

She cupped his face with both hands and drew herself in for a kiss. His lips didn't feel soft and warm like flesh. They were representations of lips, carved from granite, and she pulled away. "Can't you feel me?"

A low grunt left him, like he was trying to say something but couldn't.

"Ste—wait! No!" She was trembling horribly, as if some giant, invisible hand were shaking her, and the sky grew darker and darker until Steven faded from sight. "No, don't take me from him!" But she was gone.

* * *

It was mid-morning by the time they reached their destination: the southern-most part of the Second Kingdom. Everyone unloaded out of the Troll sovereigns' wagon, and Hyde carried a sleeping Jackie in his arms. He'd tried to rouse her with the sunrise, but her blind eyes opened for only a moment. He tried waking her up an hour later, but her eyelashes barely parted. Another hour had passed since then, and she still remained asleep.

He didn't like it, but she was breathing, and her heart continued to beat. Other people weren't so lucky—like the guards at Cinderella's castle and the acrobats at the Naked Emperor's palace—but as long as Hyde and Jackie both lived, they had hope.

Burly, Blabberwort, and Bluebell hopped back onto their wagon, but not before they stocked everyone up with provisions. They gave enough food for breakfast and three waterskins. They also gave one blanket, two knapsacks, and a copper pot. Fez and Kelso were each given daggers to replace their lost rapiers. No Dwarf moss, though, to replace the two joints Hyde had lost to Stagger's brats. He was almost out of stash.

The most important thing the Trolls gave them, however, was Rhonda. Hyde thought they were going to put up a fight at Fez's request to have her. But the Trolls said it was only fair, considering the actions of their citizens against him. Better yet, she was loaded up with weapons—an axe, a knife, and a club. Not to mention a slingshot and a pouch full of Troll dust packets.

Hyde stared at the wagon as it disappeared through the trees. Would've been nice if the Trolls' had brought them to civilization, but they were already off schedule. They needed time to prepare for the Candy and Pie Expo before going to the Council of the Nine. Good for them.

"And bad for us," he muttered. The Trolls had left everyone at the edge of Riding Hood Forest. It didn't look different than any other forest—except that this one was crawling with wolves.

"Does Queen Riding Hood own these woods?" Donna said. "Even though we're technically in Gretel's half of the kingdom?"

"Despite its name," Fez said, "the southern part of this forest belongs to Gretel—well, to whoever succeeds her." He led the way under the thick canopy of trees, with Kelso and Rhonda flanking either side of him. "If we are lucky," he continued, "we'll find one of the gingerbread safehouses before dusk and sleep there. Wolves cannot breach their magical, candy walls."

"Gingerbread safehouses?" Forman said.

"Yes. Queen Gretel the Great, though she sympathized with the wolves, also understood the danger they posed to her other citizens. She enlisted the aid of the Elves to construct these houses throughout the forest. They'll also provide food and drink. My Gretel's grandmother was very clever."

Rhonda's eyes narrowed at Fez's last words, and her fingers tapped the club dangling from her belt. Fez must have noticed because he began to stammer.

"I—I mean, Gretel the Third was my... she was my friend. Like a sister. I grew up with her, which is why I must find her killer."

"Oh." Rhonda's expression relaxed. She now knew about as much about this Gretel-chick as Hyde did, but she probably cared more. Gretel's murder had hit Fez hard, but Hyde was only two or three senses away from losing Jackie. That didn't leave him much empathy to spare.

"Kelso," Fez said, "how much Wolfsbane do we have left?"

"Dude, I'm all out."

"Then we will have to be extra careful."

"Don't worry, Coco Puff." Rhonda hit Fez on the back, a gesture she likely meant to be comforting, but he stumbled forward at the force of it. "I won't let anything happen to ya!"

"No, that's my job," Kelso said, and he hit Fez on the back even harder, sending him to the ground. " _I_ won't let anything happen to ya, buddy."

Fez spat and frantically wiped his mouth free of dirt. Seconds later, both Rhonda and Kelso moved to lift him up. They each grabbed one of his arms and heaved him into the air. Then they started pulling on him.

"Let go!" Kelso shouted. "I've been his Captain of the Guard for almost a year! He would've been dead without me."

Rhonda glared at him. "And _you,_ Sir Cupcake, would've been dead in that Troll's basement without _me._ "

She yanked on Fez's arm, and Fez cried out in pain. "Hey—hey!" he said. "You don't have to fight. You can both protect me!"

Kelso was the first to release him, but he kept a scowl trained on Rhonda. She let Fez go, too, and brushed forest debris off his shirt.

Everyone walked in silence afterward. The forest canopy grew thicker, letting in only patches of cloudy sky. Visibility was decent enough, but traveling at night was gonna be hell. They had no candles or light from Forman's arm, just the few remaining matches in Hyde's jacket.

"Hold up—stop," Forman said. He widened his stance and thrust out his arms, as if that would protect anyone. "I hear something."

A squirrel skittered from a cluster of bushes and rushed past their feet. It climbed up a tree then disappeared into the higher branches.

"So now we gotta worry about rabies?" Hyde said. His arms were getting tired carrying Jackie's 150-plus pounds, but he'd drop dead before he dropped her.

"Fez, is there anything else besides wolves we have to watch out for?" Donna said.

"I don't think so," Fez said. "But we must hunt for food if we don't find a gingerbread safehouse. The journey to Gingerbread Town will take at least two days."

_Two days?_ Hyde sucked in a breath, and his pulse tightened. Two freakin' days in a wolf-infested forest with Jackie so damn helpless?

Rhonda unhooked the club from her belt. "I'll hunt us something."

"No," Kelso unsheathed his dagger, " _I'll_ do the hunting."

"Just hunt together," Donna said behind them. Then she turned to Hyde. "Jackie's still sleeping?"

"I can't get her to wake up, man. I've tried shaking her, tickling her... not gonna pinch her." Hyde looked at Jackie's dozing face. Her left cheek had been purpled by Stagger's brats. He definitely wasn't gonna hurt her. She'd gotten plenty of pain already.

Donna's eyebrows rose, as if her next idea was obvious. "Have you tried kissing her?"

"Yes, many sleeping beauties are woken with kisses," Fez said. He walked backward in front of Hyde and opened his arms wide. "Give her to me. I'll do it."

"Yeah, I got this Fez," Hyde said. It was worth a shot. "Gimme a sec."

He laid Jackie on the forest floor and leaned over her. He brushed her cursed orange hair from her forehead, but Fez, Kelso—hell, all their friends surrounded them like it was a Goddamn show.

"Would you back off?" Hyde said, and everyone turned around to stare at the trees. "Thanks."

He took Jackie's sleeping face in his hands and pressed his mouth to her lips. She didn't respond... at first. But a moment later, her mouth moved against him, her fingers sought out the nape of his neck, and she pulled him closer for a deeper kiss.

_Damn,_ her touch felt good, and he gave into it until Forman said, "Uh, Hyde? We're in the middle of a wolf den here."

Hyde withdrew from Jackie reluctantly and brought her to her feet. She was definitely awake now because she slid her hands underneath his shirt. Her fingernails raked up his stomach, her palms smoothed over his chest, and she dropped kisses on his face, his neck.

"Crap." He tried to walk with her while she tenderly attacked his body. Donna and Kelso were laughing, but nothing was funny about it. He picked Jackie up, and she wrapped her legs around his hips. "Someone's gotta—" he began to say, but she found his lips again. Her tongue pushed into his mouth, and he delighted in the taste of it. Kissing had always been the easiest way for them to communicate, but this wasn't the damn time for it.

Gently, he broke the contact, and her lips plumped into a pout. "Jackie, we're—" He cut himself off. _Fuck._ She couldn't hear him. He unhooked her legs from his hips and put her feet on the dirt. Then he grasped her wrist and rubbed her palm on the bark of a tree.

That seemed to do it. She gasped then swore soundlessly.

"Sorry, doll," he said and kissed her palm. He clasped her hand afterward, and everyone moved forward through the forest.

He expected a silent tirade as he directed Jackie where to walk, one where she dug in her heels and tugged on his arm. But she walked through the trees where he led her, her face expressionless except for the occasional yawn. He'd spent years practicing a non-expressive face—to keep people out of it—and she'd witnessed it too many times. She'd dealt with his silence, his selective deafness and blindness to shut her out. He'd done all these things to protect himself, and now he was on the receiving end. She couldn't help it, but the feeling sucked, man. And she must have felt a hundred times worse when he'd done to her on purpose.

"Forman," he gripped Forman's sleeve and pulled him away from the rest of the group. Donna started to follow, but Hyde gestured for her to stay with the others. This was private business.

"What's going on?" Forman said.

"The second we see a wolf," Hyde whispered, "take Jackie and get as-far-the-fuck-away as you can."

"Okay, sure..." Forman swallowed and glanced down at his feet. He was clearly uncomfortable, but Hyde didn't give a shit. Forman would get over it. "But, um... one question."

"What?" Hyde said.

"Why me? You keep—you keep giving her to me, man. Why? I mean, Donna... or even Big Rhonda, Kelso... or Fez, they could protect her better than me."

Hyde smirked. "'Cause they ain't afraid of what I'll do to 'em if they let anything happen to her." Then he slapped Forman's cheek, a good-natured slap. " _You_ are."

"That's true." Forman rubbed his cheek and walked with Hyde for a while through the trees. They both kept their traps shut, but Forman eventually said, "If anything happens to me, you gotta take care of Donna, okay? Get her home."

"Yeah, I'll take care of her." Hyde slung his free arm around Forman's shoulders. "But nothing's gonna happen to you, all right? Just quit being a freakin' dumbass."

Forman smiled and tilted his head. "Oh, I'm afraid that's impossible, my friend. I was born a dumbass, and I'll more than likely die one."

* * *

The seven of them had reached a clearing in the woods, and Eric's stomach grumbled its grievance. They hadn't found a gingerbread safehouse, just a grassy field and a gray sky. It was 4:13 PM according to Hyde's watch. They'd eaten their small breakfast of stale bread and cured beef patties hours ago, and they'd skipped finding lunch.

"Better to eat one large meal late in the afternoon," Fez had explained earlier "Less opportunities for wolves to sniff us out. Eating in the dark of night, when wolves are most active, is too dangerous."

But now Fez, Kelso and Rhonda headed for the thick of the forest to hunt. The moment Rhonda took out her club, Kelso had unsheathed his dagger. He ran into the woods ahead of her, shouting, "I'll catch us a deer! The biggest deer in the Nine Kingdoms. Maybe even a _magic_ deer. Beat that!"

So Eric and Donna set off to find some wood for a cooking fire. They went to the edge of the clearing, and Donna invited Hyde to join them, but he chose to stay behind with Jackie. She and Hyde were sitting in the grass, and her eyes drifted closed while he kept watch—with Rhonda's knife in his hand.

Setting up camp in the middle of a field didn't seem like the brightest idea. They'd be easy targets for wolves, but they'd probably be easy targets among the trees, too. This was the wolves' home turf. They had the advantage here, but Eric drove those thoughts from his mind. He had to gather wood and focus on the present moment. Otherwise, he wouldn't be able to function.

Five minutes later, his arms were full of twigs. Donna's were, too, but she stopped them at the wall of trees. The clearing lay just ahead. "Eric, aren't you going to open the envelope Fez gave you?"

"What, now?" he said. "I don't even have a hand free."

She rolled her eyes. "Put the sticks down for a second, dink."

"My lady has spoken."

Eric dropped the twigs. He took out the red envelope, and his heart sped up. Whatever was written on the card had to be bad. _Had to be._ It was from Penny, after all. For his tenth birthday, she'd given him a remote-controlled car, but its tissue paper padding had been covered in itching powder. On Christmas four years later, she found his _Playboys,_ gift-wrapped them, and put them under the tree—as if they'd been a gift to _Red_ from _him._ His parents grounded him for a month.

Penny didn't do _nice._ The worst thing she'd ever done was convincing him she was adopted. She wore too-small shirts that showed off her ample breasts and claimed she had a crush on him. At the time, he was on the rebound from Donna and wanted something easy... and Penny seemed to be offering herself.

She'd set it up so his friends could watch him come onto her—his own flesh and blood—and the memory still made him flush with humiliation. If she remained true to tradition, her wedding gift to him would be just as awful. His fingers lifted the envelope's flap, but they hesitated before plucking out the white card inside.

_Dear Cousin Eric,_ the card said, and he stuffed the card back into its envelope.

"Eric!" Donna's twigs clattered to the ground, and she snatched the envelope from him. She pulled the card out again and read it aloud.

_Dear Cousin Eric,_

_Congratulations on marrying your true love. Despite our differences over the years, I'm happy for you. I'm also very sorry about Laurie. Hers is quite a loss to the family..._

Donna stopped reading, maybe because of the look on Eric's face. His mouth had fallen open, and his eyes felt like large globes in his head.

"How does—does Penny know Laurie's...?" He lost control of his breathing, and Donna rubbed his back until he recovered. As far as anyone outside of the Nine Kingdoms was concerned, Laurie was alive and well. Penny couldn't possibly know Laurie had died, and yet she did. "Keep reading, Donna," he said.

"Are you sure?"

"No, but do it anyway."

She squeezed his hand and continued reading.

_But onto more pleasant subjects. Eric, you have a great destiny—beyond Point Place, beyond your friends, beyond even true love._

"Okay, why do people keep saying you have a great destiny?" Donna said then kept reading.

_My gift to you is simply this: You will always have a place in my kingdom, and I'm more than glad to help nurture that destiny. We're family, after all. If you don't understand what any of this means, I'm sure King Fez will explain it to you._

_Love,_

_Cousin Penny, QRRH III_  
  
Eric took the card back from Donna and stared at it. "'QRRH III'? What the hell does that mean?"

"What does any of it mean?" she said. She collected her twigs and most of his, too. "Come on. Let's talk to Fez."

Eric nodded but followed her in a daze. No one had come back with food yet when they entered the clearing, and Hyde was involved in a fierce make-out with Jackie. They were lying on the grass together, all tongues and hands.

"Do you think we should interrupt them?" Donna whispered.

Eric answered by jabbing Hyde in the back with a twig. Hyde twisted around with a scowl.

"I'm pretty sure that's headed into some X-rated territory," Eric said, "so if you could take it elsewhere... like away from my eyes."

Hyde sat up and pulled Jackie into his lap. Her mouth attached itself to his neck like a lamprey, and she went to town. "I'm not gonna stop her, man," he said when Eric glared at him. Then Hyde pointed to Jackie's head. "She's bored as fuck in there."

Donna was laughing and piling sticks for the cooking fire. "But you're gonna have a Troll-sized hickey," she said.

"Why don't you give Forman one and make him shut his piehole?" Hyde said. "The rest of 'em will be back soon with grub."

He resumed kissing Jackie, as deeply and disgusting as before, but Eric pried one of Hyde's hands off her back and shoved Penny's card into it.

Hyde put the card up to his eyes between kisses. "What the hell is this?"

"My cousin Penny's wedding gift," Eric said. "Read it."

Jackie's hands were cupping Hyde's face, and Hyde shook his head. She sighed and crawled from his lap. Then she sat beside him. Not being able to communicate had to be maddeningly hard on both of them. Eric didn't enjoy witnessing their physical exchanges, but he understood their necessity.

Hyde slid an arm around Jackie's waist and read the card. "So?" he said afterward. "She's Queen Red Riding Hood the Third."

"What?" Eric and Donna both said.

"'QRRH,' man. Her 'kingdom'. Penny was dressed all in red at your wedding, too."

Eric swiped the card back from Hyde. "So you're saying my cousin is... She's a queen?"

" _She's_ saying it. I'm not."

"Okay... okay, so let me get this straight, here," Eric crouched down in front of him, "did you know about this already? You served all those drinks at Fez's coronation. She was there, wasn't she? I saw someone cloaked in red when I was on that balcony..."

"I would've told you," Hyde said; then he shrugged. "Her face was always hooded."

"Right." Eric was more than annoyed. The feeling was in his fingers. It was in his throat. If Jackie hadn't been sitting beside Hyde, if Donna hadn't been standing behind Eric... "Just like you told me about Laurie."

"Forman, you know why I kept that from you."

"Eric," Donna pulled Eric to his feet, "it's not Hyde's fault. Whatever you're feeling, it's—."

He tore her hands from his waist. "You don't know what I'm feeling, Donna, okay? You've got no—" He yelped as Hyde frogged his calf, and Eric turned toward him. "What was that for?"

"If you're gonna be pissed, be pissed at him." Hyde pointed to the edge of the clearing. Fez was making his way back to them. Five defeathered birds dangled from one hand, and the three waterskins were gathered in his arms.

"I found a brook," Fez said. He placed the waterskins in the grass by Hyde.

"I learned a truth," Eric said and shoved Penny's card in Fez's face.

Fez moved away from the card, "I'm sure you have many questions," and gave the defeathered birds to Donna. He pulled the copper pot from his knapsack then put the birds into it. "Let's build a fire."

Donna arranged the twigs she and Eric had gathered into a campfire-worthy pile. But Eric was too angry, too confused to help. Did he have questions? Damn right,he had questions, but answers weren't forthcoming.

Fez was staring up at the sky with his hands on his hips. "Ai... it's going to rain."

Eric shook his head. "Not tonight."

Donna reached toward Hyde, who tossed her a stick. "How do you know that?" she said.

"No idea," Eric said. "It's just a feeling."

Hyde continued to toss Donna sticks. Then he scooted forward to help her build the campfire. It was a mistake. Both his hands had left Jackie's body, and Jackie clutched at his shirt as if she were terrified.

"Sorry," he said and glided his hand over her knee.

"Fez, come on, man," Eric said, but Rhonda and Kelso emerged from the forest. Kelso had several rabbits skewered on his dagger, and Rhonda carried a pile of meat in her arms.

"We're back!" she announced. "I got us a deer and gutted it by the brook."

Fez moved in to kiss her, but the pile of venison stopped him short. Eric would have torn into it as it was, raw, but he didn't want to spook anyone. The thought of eating so primally spooked himself, too, but what scared him more was that it didn't feel completely unnatural.

"Wow, Rhonda— that's a freakin' feast!" Donna said. She had one of Hyde's matches, and she used it to light a clump of tinder. The tinder blazed orange with flame. She added it to the fuel wood, and a decent cooking fire kindled to life. Eric was impressed she still remembered how to do that. He'd taught her almost ten years ago, during the sixth summer they went camping with their fathers. "We're going to need a bigger pot," she said.

"Whatever," Kelso said. "The rabbits were harder to catch 'cause they're tiny—and fast."

Rhonda smirked at his boast. "Go ahead and gut them, big boy."

"Sure." Kelso pulled the rabbits off his dagger and stared at them. "Um..."

"Give 'em to 'Johnny Cub Scout'." Hyde jutted his chin at Eric. "He's done it before."

"You have?" Kelso said.

Eric took one of the rabbits and resisted the urge to gobble it up, fur and all. All his emotions were ready to burst free, and they needed an outlet, but he wrapped his fingers around the hilt of Kelso's dagger. "Yeah. Red forced it on me," he said and cut off the rabbit's feet and head. Donna looked away as he did it.

"Mashed Potato," Fez said, "how did you learn how to dress a deer?" He was standing beside Rhonda and her armful of raw venison, and he couldn't seem to stop grinning,

She laugh-snorted. "I grew up in Mississippi."

Eric sliced off the rabbit's hide next, and he made sure not to let the fur touch the meat underneath. Didn't want to contaminate their dinner. Then he cut the rabbit's belly open. The organs came out easily, warm and greasy with blood. Chucking them aside seemed like such a waste.

"We should make stew with all the meat," Fez said.

"Yeah, that's a good idea..." Eric said before blurting, "If Penny's Red Riding Hood the Third, who was Red Riding Hood the First? It would have to be her grandmother, right?" His hand squeezed down the rabbit's body. The entrails had to come out, but if he pressed too hard, the intestines would erupt. "Penny's grandmother is _my_ grandmother, right? Well, one of them is."

"Yes." Fez knelt by the fire and filled the copper pot with water from a waterskin. "What do you know about your sexy, devious sister's birth, Eric?"

"Laurie's birth?" The rabbit's entrails were ready to go, and Eric grasped the rabbit's front legs. "Mom said she was in labor with her for over twenty hours." He thrust the carcass toward the ground without releasing it, and the entrails slid through what used to be the rabbit's butt. "Laurie had a head covered in dark hair, which eventually fell out—and she was born with a tail."

"What happened to this tail?" Fez said. He reached up and traded Eric one of the waterskins for the dagger.

Eric poured water over the rabbit's body to cool it. "The doctors cut it off."

"Eric, my friend," Fez was standing again, "your sister was a wolf."

Water began to pour over Eric's wrist. "She's—what?"

"Dude, she totally was." Kelso stepped in front of him and righted the waterskin. Then he removed the dressed rabbit from Eric's hands. "Her eyes flashed orange whenever I pissed her off, and they made me do dirty things to her. I always thought I was makin' it up, but— _man,_ does that make sense."

"Yeah, it was Laurie's _eyes_ that made you a cheating douchebag," Hyde said.

"Eric—" Fez said, but Eric's mind rejected what Fez had told him. He asked Fez to pour water on his hands so he could wash up. Fez did so, but he also continued to speak gobbledygook. "Technically speaking, Laurie and the wolves we've encountered in the Nine Kingdoms are _part-_ wolves. The wolfish physical features don't always get expressed. Some are born with tails, some are not. Some have sharp teeth, some don't, and the more subtle traits may not develop until a few years after puberty."

"Uh-huh..." Eric dried his hands on his slacks.

"Male wolves are often attracted to mates with red hair—"

"Whoa," Hyde said softly, but Eric didn't know why.

He also didn't know why Donna was standing and hugging him around the waist. He began to chuckle. "Come on. This is just..."

Donna's hair fuzzed against his cheek, her beautiful _red_ hair...

"No." He pulled away from her. "I'm not... no."

But his father's voice, choked with tears, tore through his memory: " _You know, she was the first one to call me 'Red'._ "

"Grandma Forman..." Eric couldn't finish the thought strangling his mind.

"Your bitchy grandma was Little Red Riding Hood?" Hyde burst out laughing.

"Shut up, Hyde!" Eric said, finally roused from his incredulous stupor. "She wasn't, and I'm not—Fez, I'm _not_ a wolf."

But evidence to the contrary piled up inside his brain—his heightened senses and increased appetite, his behavior during that full moon, and the Wolfsbane; it had paralyzed him instantly.

"No wonder Red's always been disappointed in me," he said. "I'm a duck, and he wanted a..." _Murderous animal for a son?_ Eric's fists shook, and his throat grew tight with tears he refused to shed. "Does he know about all this stuff? Does my—does my mom?"

"According to my parents, Bernice never told him," Fez said. He and Kelso were sitting on the grass together, cutting the birds and rabbit into small chunks. They tossed the meat into the pot, and the casual way Fez was acting, the way he was _speaking_ about something so fundamental to Eric's family—to his _life—_ ignited a rage Eric didn't know how to handle.

So he separated himself from his feelings as best he could, the way Hyde had taught him, because it was either that or ripping out Fez's throat with his teeth. With a forced tranquility, he crouched next to Fez and said, "Tell me everything."

"Your grandmother had fabulous feet," Fez began. "I had never imagined finding Queen Riding Hood in Point Place. It was quite a shock." Laughter bounced out of him as if he'd encountered a long lost relative at a barbecue, and each laugh sent more anger into Eric's hands.

He disrupted Fez's amusement with a loud, "Did she recognize you?"

"What?" A few more laughs hiccuped from Fez's throat. "No. No, she didn't know I was Snow White's grandson, but she honored me by letting me rub those fabulous feet. She was one of the Five Great Ladies who united the Nine Kingdoms. She gave birth to five children, four sons—and one daughter, who became Queen Riding Hood the Second."

"A daughter?" Eric stared down at the grass. The undressed rabbits were close by, just lying there. "But my dad has no sisters."

"No sisters that Mister Red knows about," Fez said. "Averill was Bernice's firstborn, and Bernice did not bring her to Wisconsin. But when Averill became pregnant with Penny, the Second Kingdom was in turmoil. It had barely survived a civil war between the north and south halves. Averill had to choose between rebuilding her kingdom and raising a daughter, and she chose to—"

"Give Penny up to my uncle Paul," Eric said. "Paul knows about her?"

Fez nodded. "Yes. Paul is Bernice's second born. Red was born next, then their brother Jerry and, finally, their youngest brother, Marty."

"I know that. It's my damn family." Eric had picked up an undressed rabbit. He was sniffing at its fur, but he didn't really know his family, did he? He had an aunt he'd never heard of, a grandmother who'd been a queen...

"The order of your grandmother's children is important, Eric," Fez said. "It explains a few things, like why, perhaps, Red was your grandmother's favorite."

"Wait," Donna said. She was keeping her distance from Eric, a wise idea. His control over himself was slipping. "According to the fairy tale, Little Red Riding Hood was almost _eaten_ by the Big Bad Wolf. How could Eric be... that would mean _Red_ is... and... oh, God."

Rhonda added some venison to the pot. The fire seemed to be hot enough, and the stew was ready to cook. Eric gazed at the flames while Fez continued to speak. "Unfortunately, there are only rumors about Queen Riding Hood. She was married to Prince Aurick, and they had their daughter Averill and their son Paul—but, Eric, you and your sister are the proof: Bernice and the 'Big Bad Wolf' were lovers."

Eric's fingers dug into the undressed rabbit's carcass, "Really?" and twisted off its head. "Do tell."

"Fez, man," Hyde was shaking his head almost imperceptibly, but Eric spotted it, "how the hell could you keep this shit from Forman?"

"I found no point to tell him before now," Fez said. "Why do you think my parents chose Point Place—of all places in the fabulous world—to send me? They couldn't have known where Bernice had escaped to. It was destiny we become friends, Eric. I could not have told you before it was time."

_Where Bernice had escaped to?_ Bernice had escaped? From what—or whom? Her lover, the wolf? But Eric couldn't make his mouth form the questions.

Fez and Kelso were washing blood off their hands with water, and Kelso said, "Wow! Red Riding Hood's grandson and Snow White's grandson became friends. Cool!"

They'd have to go back to the brook and fill up the waterskins again before leaving the camp. Fez would be washing his hands at least one more time. He was helping Rhonda now to divest herself of the remaining raw venison. She'd brought back too much meat, and they had no salt to cure it.

Eric joined them some distance away from the fire as they dug a hole in the ground. He brought the undressed rabbit carcasses, along with the hide and organs from one he'd gutted. Such a damn waste of perfectly good meat, but he didn't want act like the wolf he supposedly was and devour it.

"What's all this about 'destiny'?" he said and dropped the rabbits—and their parts—into the hole. Everyone in the Nine Kingdoms seemed to talk about destiny, and his sister's spirit implied at his wedding that she was _destined_ to be chosen to...

His eyes shut. He hated thinking about it, how Snow White's stepmother had possessed her. He couldn't get the stink of the stepmother's crypt from his nostrils, the feel of her bony hand off his wrist. But maybe he'd been destined to "meet" her. The first time through the mirror, he'd found her crypt by chance in the Deadly Swamp—or was it by fate?

"Destiny," Fez said and dug the hole deeper around the rabbits, "brings people together who are meant to meet, brings us to places we're supposed to go. Destiny presents opportunities, but afterward," he glanced at Rhonda, "the rest is up to us. We can either accept or reject what's being offered. Many times, rejecting it is a bad thing. Other times, it can be the best decision of your life."

Rhonda dumped the raw venison into the hole. Hopefully, they'd dug it deep enough to hide the meat's smell. But if Eric could smell it after they filled the hole back up, wolves were likely to smell it, too.

"So..." Eric's shoe pushed dirt and grass over the meat, "my dad's a wolf."

"He is," Fez said. "Explains a lot, doesn't it?"

Eric had to admit that it did. "But my mom's not a redhead."

"Red had enough red hair of his own when he met your mother."

"Why—why doesn't he know?" Eric's voice was shaking. "Why did Bernice raise him—him and my uncles in Wisconsin? Why did she leave her daughter behind?"

"There are only rumors," Fez repeated. "Your grandmother was a lot older than 85 when she died. She was almost two-hundred-years-old, and she could have lived longer, but she chose to—"

"Are you—" Eric's whole body was shaking now. "Are you telling me she—she _chose_ to die with me in my car _on purpose?_ "

"I don't know. It is possible."

Eric stood away from the hole—it was mostly covered, and the smell of meat was gone—and trudged back to the campsite, only he didn't see Donna or his friends there. He saw Green Bay Road and the Vista Cruiser's dashboard. His grandmother was sitting beside him, spewing hatred about his mother. She'd just put Kitty through the ringer, criticizing her on everything, making her a nervous wreck.

He'd run through that memory too many times in the months and years since, and each time, an incredible amount of anger flared in his chest. His mother, the most loving woman Eric knew, didn't deserve hatred from anyone. Especially not from the woman whose son she made happy.

Kitty truly did make Red happy. Eric had always known that, but he'd kept his mouth shut as Bernice belittled her, afraid of bringing more abuse on his mother's head. But in the Vista Cruiser, as he drove Bernice home, he couldn't hold onto his anger any longer.

" _H_ _ere's how it is,_ " he'd said. " _You're very nasty, and I don't see why you have to be so hateful. I don't think being nice for a whole day would kill you._ " Then her head dropped onto his shoulder. She was dead.

" _It was a fluke,_ " his dad had told him, that she'd died right then, but his mom said, " _The very idea of withholding her contempt had killed her, Eric. Not you._ "

But now Eric wasn't so sure. Bernice dying in that moment could have been a final act of hatred or revenge. But against him? Or against his mother? Maybe dying was a last attempt to split his parents apart by pitting them against each other, Red's loyalty for Bernice versus Kitty's for their son.

"But Red wasn't loyal to you," Eric heard himself saying. His grandmother's head still weighed down his shoulder. He couldn't bring himself to shrug her off, but her body listed away from him when the 'Cruiser took a sharp turn. "He loved you, but he's loyal to us—to me and Mom... and Laurie."

Only when his father cried had Eric admitted what happened. Red, who never shed any tears, was crying over his mother. But instead of blaming Eric for her death, he put his hand on Eric's knee and said, " _It's okay._ "

Not, "I disown you," not, "I'm kicking your dumb ass out," but, " _It's okay._ "

Eric hadn't felt that loved by his father in a long time.

The crackling fire in Red Riding Hood forest burned through Green Bay Road, through the Vista Cruiser and his grandmother's dead body. Eric was sitting in the grass now, shoveling stewed meat into his mouth. He didn't remember taking a seat or grabbing pieces of stew from the pot.

"Eric," Donna sat down next to him, "you've been quiet for, like, ten minutes." Her shoulder was touching his arm. She was too close.

He scuttled away from her on the grass. "Will you stop acting like I need you to hold my hand every five seconds?" He got to his knees and leaned over the cooking fire, "I'm not a kid, Donna," and snatched up another hot handful of stew. "I'm not _your_ kid."

"No, you're my husband..." she pushed herself up, "and a giant ass!"

She ran off toward the woods, but he didn't follow. "Oh, yeah?" he shouted. "Well, try learning everything about yourself was a big fat lie! Then see we'll see who the ass is!"

Donna hadn't stopped running. She disappeared into the trees, and a sharp pain struck the back of Eric's head. He turned around. Hyde was behind him with his hand raised.

"The ass would still be you," Hyde said. Then he brought Jackie across the clearing to the woods.

They'd gone after Donna like Eric should have, but his gaze returned to the cooking fire, and he quieted his wolfish appetite with stew.


	40. Separated from the Pack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 40  
 **SEPARATED FROM THE PACK**  


_"You gotta take care of Donna, okay?"_ Forman had said, but Hyde didn't expect to honor his half of the deal so soon. Donna had bolted into the woods thanks to Forman's dumbass mouth, and Hyde followed after her with Jackie. One of Jackie's hands was holding his, and the other clutched a cooked pheasant leg. He didn't want to alarm her by running, so he kept his pace relatively slow. But this forest was thick with wolves, and wandering around in it had to be the opposite of a good idea.

Fortunately, Donna stopped a few feet past the first trees, and she was busy kicking bark off a fallen log. "Hey," Hyde said and reached for her shoulder, but she turned around at the sound of his voice.

"I can't take it anymore, Hyde!" Her fingers raked through her scalp, pushing a curtain of red hair from her face. "I can't take _him._ "

Hyde sat Jackie down on the fallen log. He plunked down next to her and kept a hand on her knee. Then he patted the log for Donna to sit. She remained standing, though, and Forman's chastisement burned through her voice like acid:

"'I'm not a kid, Donna. I'm not _your_ kid,' What the hell? I mean... _what the hell?_ " Her fingers dug into her scalp again. "God!" Then her hands dropped and slapped her legs. "Why couldn't he just act like you did when you found out W.B. was your dad? You didn't shut Jackie out."

Hyde arched an eyebrow. "Yeah, I did."

"No, you didn't lie to her—or keep secrets from her."

"Yeah, I did," he repeated and squeezed Jackie's knee. She was nibbling at the pheasant leg in very small bites. "Before that shit about my dad came out, I was already thinkin' of proposing to her... eventually. Even saved up a little cash for a ring."

"What?" Donna still wasn't sitting. She pinched the material of her borrowed leather pants and twisted it around her fingers. A heap of energy must have accumulated in her hands. Too bad Forman wasn't around for her to unleash it on. "Jackie kept pushing you to plan your future together, and you broke up over it—"

"My point exactly, man. My past was fucked up, but at least I knew _how_ it was fucked up. When W.B. came into the picture, all that got blown to shit. I couldn't think about the future 'cause I couldn't make sense of my past. Jackie became a casualty of that."

"Oh..." Donna's fingers relaxed and let her pant legs alone, "but you obviously got over it."

"Not overnight—or a hundred of 'em. And I went from being the son of a deadbeat alcoholic to the son of a cool guy who gives a crap about me. It was a good trade. Forman's got a little more to deal with than that."

Donna gazed down at the dirt ground, "I guess you're right..." and finally sat beside him on the log. She touched the scab under his chin from Thorny's dagger. It was fresh, and he flinched at the sting. "Thank you," she said, "for keeping those Trolls from dragging me downstairs and... you know."

He nodded and chose not to speak of his reasons. They were too many and too deep.

"You really got your butt kicked." She chuckled, as if his skull-busting fight with Thorny had been a run-of-the-mill tussle with Kelso. Then she shook the laughter from her throat. "It scared the hell out of me. You've always been the strongest of us—besides me—and maybe even the smartest, which," she jabbed his chest, "is the only reason you didn't get killed."

He looked over at Jackie. She still had half her pheasant leg left. She was eating slowly, probably relishing the break in her monotony. "Bein' smart's been hard lately," he said.

"Not just for you," Donna said.

"Look, man..." he put his free arm around Donna's shoulders, and she laid her head against his cheek, "what went down with Laurie, it's screwing with Forman's mind. Think about it. He's always been the soft one, doesn't wanna shoot a deer 'cause 'it's majestic,' that kind of crap. It's not his nature to hurt people. Y'know, kind of like his mom."

"Well, he's sure been hurting _me_ a lot since we got here."

"That's because..." Hyde glanced up at the trees and focused on the oval leaves. His shades were hooked on his shirt collar for Jackie's benefit, but he wanted them covering his eyes. Normally, he could distance himself from the emotions a conversation like this brought up, but his ability to do so seemed to be fading. By default, his muscles were always a little tense—as if danger crept everywhere—but he wasn't usually aware of it. Now his innate, physical alertness was evident, and he didn't like the feeling. It was too familiar, too old."He also tore off that dead rabbit's head, did you see that?" Donna said. "And he gutted the other one like he was peeling a banana, like he _wants_ to hurt things."

Hyde sighed. He knew why Forman was being a dick. It was the same reason Hyde was a dick, and it had nothing to do with Forman's supposed wolfish lineage. "That because _he's_ hurting, man. It sucks, but that's the way it works."

"How is he gonna deal with all this wolf-stuff when he can't even deal with his sister's death?" Donna's hand slipped behind Hyde's back and grabbed a fistful of his corduroy jacket. "I tried to get him to open up about Laurie, but—but he, like, needs his parents to tell him it's okay, you know? If Red and Kitty knew Eric had actually _saved_ Laurie's soul by—by—"

_Killing her,_ that was what she had trouble saying. Laurie's hands had been around Forman's throat, choking the life from him. The way Hyde saw it, Forman was given no choice.

"But his parents don't even know she died," Donna said. She straightened up, but Hyde kept his arm around her. "They think she's alive-and-well in Canada."

"Laurie's burning Forman from beyond the grave." A grin shot across his face. "Nice."

"No, it's not nice! It's..." Her cheeks flushed, and tears rimmed her eyes, but she leaned her head back as if she didn't want any tears to fall.

"Donna, it's okay." He gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Jackie can't hear you, and I sure as hell won't tell anyone."

Wordlessly, she turned her face into his arm, and her body shook as she sobbed against him. The sight was strange. She never wept, at least, not around him, and it made him wanna kick Forman's ass.

"I need him to trust me," she said through her tears.

"He doesn't trust himself. It's not you."

"That's exactly what he told me."

"What do you expect? Red undermined him every chance he got. Yeah, he was trying to teach Forman how to be a man, but Forman's not a man—"

"Hyde..."

"Not that _kind_ of man. He's got..." Hyde's face screwed up with disgust, " _feelings._ It's hard to be cool with the man you are when you've got your dad telling you it's not good enough."

He felt a pat on the shoulder opposite Donna, and he looked to his left. Jackie was finished eating. The pheasant leg, stripped of meat, now sat in the dirt. She yawned, and he guided her to his lap. She lay down over it and closed her eyes, and he rubbed her back. Her hair was still as orange as Donna's, her face and body still plumper, but she'd become more beautiful to him. Each cursed day, she got more beautiful.

"But he _is_ good enough," Donna whispered. "I've always tried to help him get that."

"You have," he said. "It'd be damn hard being Forman's friend without your influence on him."

She laughed and wiped her face on her jacket sleeve. Hyde, meanwhile, pulled out his last joint. Beer would've been better in this circumstance, but seeing as they had none...

He lit up the joint with a match and offered Donna the first hit. "He's gotta go the rest of the way on his own, man," he said, and she sucked in the smoke. "He's gotta _want_ to. He can't just bitch about it. He's gotta _do_ something."

"Well, you know what?" She passed Hyde the joint with a cough. "Letting me be there for him would be a good start. It's not a sign of weakness to let people support you."

"Yeah, you're talking to the wrong guy about that." He glanced down at Jackie. Her breathing had grown slower, and his strokes on her back slowed to match. She was falling asleep. "I've always preferred doing the supporting than being the one supported, and I'm not too big a fan of either."

"Oh, my God, Hyde..." Donna looked down at Jackie, too, "what you've been doing for her, that you can still listen to _me..._ "

"Whatever." He took a long pull off the joint. The conversation had taken an uncomfortable swerve. "It's cool."

"No, it's incredible. I can see why Jackie fell in love with you."

" _Whatever._ " He shifted his weight on the log, and Jackie smacked his leg. "Sorry, doll," he said, though she couldn't hear him. His thumb traced delicately over the ridge of her ear. She settled down, and her lips pressed two kisses into his denim-covered knee. She'd understood his signal, and that gave him some comfort.

Donna's grin, however, raised gooseflesh on the nape of his neck. "If I'd known you'd end up like this," she pointed at his thumb dragging along Jackie's ear, "I would've let you kiss me those years ago instead of slapping you."

He shoved the joint in her face. "Smoke up. You need more." He didn't speak again until a white cloud drifted out of her mouth. "You're just pissed at Forman."

"Maybe..."

"And the only reason I 'ended up like this' is _because_ of Jackie. Without her, I'm just an asshole."

"She does always seem to bring out your softer side," Donna said. She sucked in another hit then passed the joint back. "But you're being unfair to yourself. Flowers grow only where there are seeds, right? Jackie wouldn't have brought out those things unless they were in you to begin with."

"Huh." He put the joint to his lip and inhaled the smoke deeply, and he held it in his lungs as long as he could. Maybe too long. He was staring at Jackie in his lap, and she was no longer skin and bone but light... _Sunlight._ She warmed him and lit him up, and she reached him in the dirt. He unhooked his shades from his shirt and slid them on his face.

"You know..." he laughed, "Forman actually got to me first. I would've been too much of an asshole without him for Jackie's destructive influence to work on me."

Donna's eyes widened as if he'd said something surprising. Then she swiped the joint from his fingers and pinched it out. "When he's not being a dink," she said, "Eric's... He's amazing. I just wish he knew that."

Hyde scooped the the joint out of her palm. Half of it was left, and he stashed it back in his jacket. "Listen, once this curse crap is over—or Jackie takes off the damn ring—I'll drive it into Forman's skull, okay? Even if I have to beat it into him."

They stood from the log together, and he carried Jackie in his arms. Her head lolled against his chest. She'd fallen into a deep slumber. He stepped toward the clearing with her, but Donna stopped him and cupped his chin.

"Thanks, Hyde. For everything." She pecked his lips gently then let him go.

"Yeah, get bent," he said but returned the kiss, leaving one on her forehead before they returned to the campsite.

* * *

The seven of them had left the clearing after packing up, and they hurried into the woods. Darkness had fallen, but the forest's canopy wasn't thick enough to block the whole sky—and Kelso was glad. The moon glowed above them, less than half-full. It grew thinner each night, too, which made Kelso doubly-glad. They didn't need anything to make the wolves more aggressive than they usually were.

But another few hours of traveling in the woods, and they still didn't find a gingerbread safehouse. The houses were supposed to protect them, but they were doing a lousy job of it. Wolves could attack at any time, but at least they'd be in human form. Kelso would have a small chance of escaping them with his friends—and with Rhonda.

No,Rhonda wasn't a friend. She was more of a usurper. Just like Hyde had stolen Jackie from him years ago, Rhonda had begun to take his place with Fez. But she was strong, and Kelso didn't regret her presence here. He just resented it.

Eventually, they made camp among the trees but without fire. It would be a cold night, and Kelso took the first watch. He leaned against a mossy tree but remained standing. Everyone else hunkered down around him in a circle, some taking shelter behind thick bushes. Only their dark outlines were visible, but Hyde's whispers carried in the air. Kelso couldn't make out what he was saying—or why he would bother talking at all, considering Jackie was deaf—but he kept at it.

Unlike Eric, who'd refused to wrap himself in the wool blanket with Donna. He was rushing around their campsite, breaking branches off trees, and Kelso had to stop him. He was making too much noise.

"I'm trying to build a shelter," Eric said, but Kelso pushed him through a bush to Donna.

"You're gonna attract wolves with all that noise, Eric. We woulda made a fire if we wanted to do that," Kelso patted him on the back, "and we've already got our wolf."

Eric shoved Kelso off him and lay in the dirt next to Donna. He didn't touch her, though, and let her have all the blanket.

Kelso tutted. _Man,_ was Eric acting dumb. He had a wife who loved him—who would console him _sexually,_ for crying out loud. He didn't realize what he was missing.

But Eric's stupidity wasn't Kelso's main concern right now. He returned to the mossy tree and prepared himself for two hours of boredom. That was what he wanted, nothing out of the ordinary, no wolves leaping at him from the trees. In their animal form, wolves couldn't climb to save their lives. But as humans, they were scary-good climbers. He'd witnessed once a wolf leaping from branch-to-branch, from tree-to-tree to evade a torch-carrying mob.

The wedge-shaped moon shone through the leaves above, and Kelso slid a hand over Rhonda's pouch of Troll dust. It dangled from his belt along with her slingshot. She'd lent both to him for his time on watch, which was nice of her. Journeying through Red Riding Hood Forest without Wolfsbane was inviting death, but Troll dust had some effect on wolves. It would slow them down.

Kelso drummed his fingers on the tree's mossy trunk. His thoughts were making him nervous, but he had nothing to distract him. He wasn't _supposed_ to be distracted, of course. Being on watch meant being super-aware of everything, like how the leaves of his tree were rustling. They waved in the moonlight, but no wind was blowing. He pulled out his dagger. _Was that a wolf above him?_ He opened his mouth to shout an alarm, but an owl hooted first. Then it flew from the branches.

"Shit..." He slumped against the trunk.

"It's just an owl, cupcake," Rhonda said in the dark..

"Quit calling me 'cupcake,' _Rhonda!_ "

She should've been asleep with Fez, but at least they weren't doin' it together out here. Fez was using her huge body as a bed, but Kelso didn't need her to keep watch with him. She had the next shift anyway. He could've used his buddies from the Fourth Kingdom guard, though. They were good company.

Defeating the Troll King's children had earned their respect, and his scar from Bluebell reminded them why. But even during his off-duty hours when he spent time with them, he felt inexplicably lonely. Being with the guard wasn't the same as hanging out in Eric's basement, and it was nothing like being with his daughter...

Or Brooke.

A fox scurried from the bushes and sniffed the dirt. Its glowing, yellow eyes flashed at Kelso before it disappeared into bushes again. They reminded him too much of wolf eyes, and he shuddered. As much as he missed his li'l munchkin and Brooke—with her nurturing, intelligent voice he actually listened to—he was happy they were nowhere near this forest.

* * *

Gentle fingers ran along Jackie's jawline, pulling her from sleep, and her blind eyes popped open. A kiss behind her earlobe followed, warm and familiar and _Steven._ She inhaled his scent. They could've all used a shower, but his smell comforted her now.

His corduroy jacket, or something equally as soft, padded her head like a pillow. Her body was lying on the hard, dirt-covered ground, but she didn't care. Steven's palms glided beneath her shirt and over her stomach. His hands were soft and moving slowly, deliberately toward her hips. His thumbs drew circles over her cool skin until his fingers settled at the small of her back.

His touch had no sexual implications. This was his way of saying he loved her.

She reached up and found his face. His cheeks were fuzzier than they'd been before. She must have slept a whole night's-worth of hours because his beard was growing in. She slid her fingers to the nape of his neck and clasped them over his curls. " I love you, Puddin'," she said and hoped he had enough light to see it.

His lips answered her, brushing over her mouth and pushing against it. His kiss held back nothing and made her dizzy with astonishment. She smoothed her hands over his broad shoulders and gripped his biceps for support because, finally, she understood how much this man loved her. With every breath of hers he stole—and every breath of his own he gave back—this man loved her; and his words, as much as she wanted them, as much as she _missed_ them, weren't necessary anymore for her to trust that.

She lost herself to the rhythm of his kiss, to his tender fingertips on her cheek, but he stopped far too soon and pulled her off the ground. He grasped her wrist and rubbed her palm against something rough—tree bark. "Yes, Steven, I know," she said. "We're still in a stupid forest."

He couldn't hear her, but she'd keep on speaking to him regardless. He would worry if she stopped trying to share her thoughts. And last night—or whenever he'd laid them down to sleep—she tapped his lips. She couldn't hear him either, but she wanted his thoughts, too, and the vibration of his voice rumbled at her through his chest.

The smell of burning wood hit her nostrils as Steven walked them somewhere. Must have been a cooking fire, and he sat her down in his lap. Meat would be for breakfast, apparently. Its earthy scent had joined the burning wood. French toast was impossible to come by in a forest, but what about fruit? Surely Fez could tell an edible berry from a poisonous one. He'd grown up in the trees while his parents fed him wild berries for sustenance.

That was an exaggeration, of course, but it made her laugh nonetheless. Steven jostled her a bit, and his breath puffed at her ear, as if he were laughing, too...

And then he yanked her to her feet.

His hand clamped over her wrist, and something hard bumped into her legs. He pressed her palm to his corduroy jacket. The ridged, velvety material tickled her as he patted her hand against it, but she didn't know what he wanted.

An unfamiliar pair of hands gave her no time to puzzle it out. They grabbed her beneath the armpits and hefted her up. Steven pulled her wrists to either side of his face, and his sideburns scratched against her skin. He clasped her hands together at his chest then wrapped her legs around his waist.

He was carrying her, piggyback-style, and he'd begun to run. His gate was rough. She bounced with his steps and clung to him tightly. His heart was racing beneath her hands. Her own heart sped up, and she buried her face in his hair, already damp from sweat.

They were in trouble. Someone was after them. More Trolls? A wolf?

Steven stopped suddenly and pried her off his back. Her feet hit the ground, and his fingers clamped around her wrist for the third time. Then he stuck her hand into a bony, sweaty one. _Eric's_. He was passing her off to Eric again _._

"Don't you dare, Steven!"she shouted, but Eric was already pulling her forward.

* * *

A wolf had separated from the pack, and Hyde took after him through the woods. Wolves were sneaky suckers. They played against expectations; their morning ambush proved that well enough. They were all in human form, but their furry tails stuck out of their pants, and the growls coming from them didn't sound human at all.

"Hyde!" Donna shouted."Hyde, come back!"

He glanced behind himself and through the trees. Kelso, Fez, and Rhonda were holding their own against the majority of the pack. Rhonda had taken out a few with Troll dust, and she fought as well as any Viking with that axe of hers. Fez and Kelso were pretty handy with their daggers, too, though they'd be better off with rapiers. Most importantly, Eric had dragged Jackie to relative safety away from the fight.

"Hyde!" Donna shouted again.

"Stick with Forman!" he said and continued after the wolf. This was his best—and maybe only—shot to get answers.

A thick barrier of bushes stood before him, but he charged through them and squeezed into a dense copse of trees. The ground sloped downward as the woods opened up into a small glade. He chased the wolf across it and back onto a narrow dirt path. The wolf's tail disappeared around a curve in the path but only briefly. Hyde was keeping decent pace with him—but then the path curved again into a thick wall of trees, and Hyde stopped himself before smashing into it.

A dirt ledge lay to the right. The wolf had already jumped off it, and Hyde followed. He landed in a cloud of underbrush. Brambles scraped his face and hands, but his eyes remained fixed on that furry tail. The wolf scurried through the bushes, gaining speed by the second, but still Hyde followed.

The underbrush gave way to an archway of trees. The wolf was outrunning him by far, but Hyde pursued until the wolf quit bolting and howled into the gray sky.

The howl was answered by a chorus of too many others. The strange, melodic sounds sent fresh adrenaline through Hyde's body, and he stepped back, hoping to retreat.

A useless hope. Over a dozen pairs of glowing, orange eyes blinked at him among the trees.

He was surrounded.


	41. Grayhead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. “A Woman Left Lonely” (P) Originally released 1971. All rights reserved by Sony Music Entertainment Inc.

CHAPTER 41  
 **GRAYHEAD**  


Eric fled through the woods and held tightly to Jackie's wrist. With that extra weight on her, she couldn't run as quickly as he could alone, but those wolves weren't following, and Donna had caught up with his pace. Her presence diminished his terror. Despite everything that went down the night before, she'd stuck with him.

"Eric," she whispered and pulled him and Jackie into a small hollow.

They ducked down behind a pair of bushes with long, spiky leaves, and he yanked Jackie into a squat. She was breathing shallow breaths, and her pulse ticked furiously beneath his thumb. She had to be scared out of her mind, just like he was. What the hell was Hyde thinking, going after a wolf by himself?

The sounds of their friends' struggle reached Eric in the the hollow, sounds Donna probably couldn't hear. They were too many yards away from the fight, but his enhanced senses picked up every grunt, every thud of a body on the ground. He risked peeking above the spiky-leafed bushes. Before his wolfish traits had developed, he wouldn't have spotted too many details—just the vague, tiny shapes of his friends and the wolves they fought, indistinguishable from each other. Now, though, his eyes took in the sight of nine wolves lying among the trees, incapacitated. The four remaining wolves kept up the battle, but Kelso, Fez, and Big Rhonda were damn good with their weapons.

Donna raised up on her knees to look over the bushes. She smelled like fear, and Eric whispered, "Donna, I am so sorry. I've been such an assho—"

"Be sorry later," she whispered back. Her focus was on the fight, whatever she could see, but he couldn't stop looking at her. She gave him strength— _so much_ strength—but what had he given her? Generosity? Fun? What good were those things when facing down a band of furious Trolls or a pack of throat-tearing wolves? He should've been capable of protecting her... like a man _._

"Donna," he said, but a distinct, musky scent entered his nose. His fingers sprang open, and Jackie was no longer in his grasp. She was slung over a wolf's shoulder and getting farther away.

Eric leapt out of the hollow, intending to chase them through the woods, but Donna's shout froze him in place: "Get off me!"

He turned in the opposite direction of Jackie and her kidnapper. A short, brown-haired wolf had Donna around the waist, but she smashed his throat with her fist. She was free and racing toward their friends—and the battle—and the wolf charged after at her.

Eric glanced behind him. The other wolf had shrunk into the distance with Jackie. She was completely helpless, but how could Eric leave Donna? How could he leave his wife?

He turned back to her and pulled one of Laurie's seeds from his pocket. He hurled it, a power-throw, and the seed sailed over the short wolf's head. It hit the dirt by Donna's feet and burst into a giant rose, swallowing her up in its petals. But the wolf wasn't deterred. He growled, and his teeth gnashed at the rose's blood-red flesh. If he got through...

Eric surged forward, but the wolf howled in pain and jumped back. Long, sharp thorns had shot into him from the earth— _from the rose—_ and he retreated into the woods while pulling thorns from his body.

Donna was safe, _had_ to be safe, but Jackie was surely dead if Eric didn't go after her. She and her kidnapper were tiny dots, about to disappear over the horizon. Eric sped through the forest after them and propelled another seed through the trees. It landed on the ground, and a vine coursed beneath the dirt like a traveling flame. The wolf yelped as the vine connected, and he fell hard on his face. But Jackie toppled safely onto his back.

Eric pumped his legs as hard and fast as they could go. She was only forty feet away now.

Thirty...

Twenty...

Ahead of him, the leaves of a maple tree were shaking. A wolf dove from its branches and slammed Eric into the dirt. Eric couldn't breathe. The impact had driven the air out of him, along with the ability to react, and gave the wolf ample chance to pin him to the ground.

"Good morning," the wolf said. He sniffed Eric's face before landing a punch that stole Eric's consciousness.

* * *

Eric's head throbbed and his jaw ached, which told him he was awake. His face felt hot with blood, and everything was moving past him upside down—trees, straw houses, families of wolves. He was in a village enclosed by a dense wall of trees. Bits of the gray sky broke through a thick canopy of leaves, and he was being carried by the wolf who'd captured him.

"Um... excuse me?" Eric said.

To his surprise, the wolf answered. "Yes?"

"Where are you taking me?"

"To Grayhead's house," the wolf said.

_Grayhead._ The name sounded familiar, but Eric couldn't place it. Too much blood had pooled in his brain.

Eventually, they came to a house made of brick. The wolf brought him inside and put him down on the dirt floor next to Jackie. She seemed unharmed, though she stank of terror.

He took her hand, and she seemed to recognize his touch. She clung to his arm and pressed her face into it.

Ten wolves had them surrounded in the house, which consisted of a large, square room. It was lit by torches and furnished with straw beds. Not a safe place to keep fire, and Eric envisioned himself grabbing a torch, lighting the beds, and flushing the wolves from the house—but they'd probably be on him before he even stood up. Eight of them were dark-haired men, and one was an auburn-haired boy, no older than twelve. The last of the pack stood in front of them all, an older man with gray hair hair...

_Grayhead._

The top chunk of his left ear was missing, as if it had been bitten off. His body was rangy like Eric's, slender with long limbs, but it probably contained incredible power. His bushy gray tail stuck out of his pants. It was wagging, like a happy dog's, and his confident stance—but more so his _smell_ —indicated him to the pack's leader. He must have proved himself long ago, through many blood-filled battles, to earn that position, and the wolves moved aside as he stepped toward Jackie. His eyes flashed hungrily at her, which made Eric shudder and place a protective arm around her back. .

"Finally," Grayhead said, "we have our prize." He pulled Jackie from Eric's grasp as easily as he would a doll and sniffed her neck.

"Hey!" Eric leapt up, but three wolves rushed forward and restrained him. "Leave her alone!"

Jackie shouted silently in Grayhead's embrace, and her foot swung at his leg. It missed by inches. Blind and deaf as she was, she couldn't possibly know who'd captured them or who held her now, but she knew enough to fight.

Grayhead laughed hoarsely. "I like my lunch feisty, but first..." He grabbed Jackie's left wrist, and she squirmed in his grip. She jerked her body, pinched him with her other hand, but that all seemed to please him. "Ooh, I'm enjoying you already," he said and wrapped his arm around her waist. He pulled her to his chest, but she kept struggling.

Eric shouted in vain for Grayhead to let her go. The other wolves remained silent, and Grayhead clutched Jackie's ring with his teeth. He tugged on it, but the ring wouldn't move. He growled and tried again, once... twice... then removed his teeth from her finger. "Huff-puff, the magic is strong."

"Only she can take the ring off," Eric said.

"Is that so?" Grayhead cupped Jackie's chin and stared into her face. His eyes blazed orange, and his voice became a hypnotic whisper. "Remove the ring," he said, but she didn't react.

Eric's wedding ring, however, ended up in his own right palm. He'd taken it off.

"Remove the ring," Grayhead repeated, and his eyes glowed brighter, but Jackie had no sight to see them—something Eric would not reveal.

"She can't hear you," he divulged instead and slipped his ring back on. "Her ring is cursed."

Grayhead's eyes dimmed to their natural brown. "I know." His voice was soft, but malice cut through it, and he nuzzled Jackie's cheek. "I just didn't know how it affected her. So..." He sniffed her neck again, too intimately, and she winced. The scent of her terror seemed to turn him on—or maybe it made him hungry.

Eric's muscles tensed, but he had no chance against these wolves. Their grip on his shoulders was relatively gentle, but that was no guarantee their manner wouldn't change. He slipped a hand into his pocket. Only six of Laurie's seeds left. He grasped one and dropped it to the dirt floor.

Nothing.

The torches didn't provide enough light, but the blue diamond of Jackie's ring glinted in the flames. Grayhead was gazing at it, and he licked his lips, like a dog anticipating a good meal.

* * *

More than a dozen wolves issued from the archway of trees and encircled Hyde. They were all sniffing the air except for the one he'd chased through the underbrush. This wolf stepped up to him and bowed. "How can we serve you today?"

He sounded polite, seemed gentle—like that wolf who'd rescued him and his friends from the Duergar—but every sense Hyde had told him to run. Not fight. Not ask questions. _Run._ But Jackie was screwed if he didn't at least try. He opened his mouth to speak.

"Only one way will do," one of the wolves said, " _raw._ "

Hyde put his hands up and backed off. Getting answers from them definitely wasn't gonna happen. He'd be lucky to come away with his life. "I went the wrong way, man. So I'll just be..." He turned and gunned it back through the underbrush. To his surprise, no one followed him—

Because others were lying in wait.

Two wolves tackled him from the bushes. He hit the dirt, and they made shreds of his corduroy jacket and shirt, exposing half his body. Sharp teeth penetrated his shoulder, the one previously bitten. He swallowed down a groan and tried to shove the wolves off him, but they were almost as strong as the Trolls. His shoulder was burning, and more teeth tore into the flesh at his side.

"Fuck!" he shouted, unable to contain the pain, but he directed it into his fingers. He grasped the wolf's face and pried him off. The wolf grinned back with blood-smeared lips.

Hands tugged at Hyde's jeans. The first wolf was trying to get his pants off, but they proved too tough to shred. Good ol' denim, and it gave Hyde the chance to kick the wolf's head in.

The wolf whimpered and tumbled into the dirt, and Hyde's small success bolstered his strength. He twisted around to deal with the second wolf, but the wolf wasn't there. Inexplicably, he'd run off with his buddy instead of retaliating. Hyde didn't wait around to figure out why. He picked himself up and bolted through the underbrush. Seconds later, another wolf sprang from a tree and smashed him to the ground.

"Hello," the wolf said by his ear.

They were playing with him. He was gonna be their damned entertainment before he was their breakfast. The third wolf sunk his teeth into Hyde's back and ripped out a chunk out of it. Pain blazed through Hyde's whole body. He pressed his face into the dirt, hoping it would muffle his scream.

"You're fun," the wolf said and pulled Hyde to his feet. "Tasty, too." The wolf's face was covered in blood, and Hyde's shaking hands reached behind himself to his bare back. It was soaked, but he chose not to process what that meant.

The wolf shoved him forward through the bushes, and orange eyes flashed at him everywhere. He had no place to hide, man. No place to go. The pack was all around him, in the underbrush, in the trees. They were all gonna have a turn at him.

"Hey!" Hyde shouted into the forest. Pain incinerated every nerve in his body, and his heart jackhammered like it would punch through his ribs. "If—if you're gonna kill me anyway, mind telling me what you want with Snow White's ring?"

Several wolves emerged from the underbrush. "That," one of them said, "is none of your business."

"C—come on..." Hyde smiled at them. If any chance existed he'd crawl away from this alive, it was worth a shot. "Don't I get a freakin' last request or somethin'? D—don't wolves have some kind of code?"

"Only for other wolves," one of them said. Then the whole pack was on him.

* * *

Grayhead's mouth closed around Jackie's ring finger, and she threw her head back in silent terror. The smell of it permeated the wolves' house, mingling with the wolves' own musky odor. Eric didn't know what else to do, so he fell to his knees. Tears of both rage and desperation had risen in his eyes, and he pleaded, "No, don't hurt her!"

Grayhead pulled Jackie's finger from his mouth. "Why? Is she your mate?"

"Yes! Yes, she's my—my mate."

"Well." Grayhead let go of Jackie's hand. Her ring finger seemed uninjured. It wasn't even bleeding. "That poses a problem, doesn't it?"

"It most certainly does!" Eric said too loudly. He glanced at the wolves surrounding him and lowered his voice. "Um... why does it pose a problem?"

Grayhead sighed and led Jackie back to Eric. "We can't harm the mate of another wolf."

Eric stood back up and grabbed Jackie's hand. "You know I'm a—a wolf?"

"Wolves have a special smell," Grayhead swiped at Eric's temple with two fingers, "even those who lack certain... physical attributes."

Grayhead's confirmation settled in Eric's stomach like a rotten cabbage. He wrapped his arms around Jackie for comfort, and she buried her face in his neck. She was trembling, or maybe _he_ was the one trembling. Either way, the wolves wouldn't get to her again, not unless they hurt him severely. Hyde had entrusted her life to him.

"Why do you want the ring so badly?" Eric said. "It's cursed, right? Who'd want that?"

"Who, indeed." Grayhead leaned against the brick wall. He seemed entirely too relaxed, but Eric trusted nothing about these wolves, especially appearances. The youngest among them occasionally bared his teeth in Eric's direction, but the boy was frightened. Eric could smell it.

"Who would most benefit most from Queen Gretel the Third's death?" Grayhead said, and Eric shook his head. Fez had said something about it, and he tried to remember. "Rumors abound that great power lies dormant in the ring of Snow White, awoken only by..." Grayhead smiled cheerlessly, " _true love._ "

The words were poison on his tongue, and Eric held onto Jackie tighter.

"Tell me, pup," Grayhead grabbed a torch from the wall and brought it close to Eric's face, "do you know what it's like to be burned?"

Eric flinched, from both the heat of the torch and the question. "N—no, sir. At least, not in the way I think you mean."

"My mate, she had the most beautiful chestnut fur..." Grayhead stroked the back of Jackie's cursed, red hair. "Red Caps found her nursing our cubs in the forest. I was out hunting food when I heard her cries through the trees." A soft growl escaped his throat, and he finally moved the torch from Eric's face. "Queen Riding Hood's darlings separated my mate from our children... and then from her life."

He snuffed the torch in the dirt floor. The pain in his face was snuffed along with it, leaving only anger "Wolves are forever hunted," he said, "forced to live half-lives. Queen Riding Hood the Third must not get dominion over the whole Second Kingdom. That is why we must have the ring. With it, we can put an end to her mother's murderous legacy."

_Her mother's_ murderous legacy, not her grandmother's. Eric fumbled over the information internally. Grayhead was speaking of Averill, the aunt Eric had never known about—Bernice Forman's only daughter.

Eric slid his chin over Jackie's shoulder and struggled to keep his tears at bay. Queen Riding Hood the Third was his cousin Penny. How could she be capable of the things Grayhead claimed? But his own sister had murdered Fez's parents and, later, tried to kill all royalty in the Nine Kingdoms. Those things were in Laurie to do, despite the evil influence that had captured her. Maybe the same kind of things were in his cousin, too.

Tears escaped his shut eyes. _God_ , he wished Donna were here. Her family looked like the Bradys next to his.

"So it _is_ true love," Grayhead said, and Eric looked at him. "I can smell it on both of you now."

But Eric had been thinking of Donna, not Jackie. So he and Donna were true loves, too. Warmth cut through the cold fear in his chest—but if Grayhead believed it was Jackie who filled his heart, Eric had no intention of correcting him.

"She is fortunate." Grayhead walked among his pack and sniffed a few of the wolves he passed. "We have no mercy for humans. Had she not been your mate, she would have been our lunch." He returned to the snuffed torch in the dirt and kicked it aside. "Tell me, pup, is she tasty?"

"Yeah. Real, uh... tasty." Eric kissed the top of her head, the way he'd seen Hyde do a hundred times, slow and tender. "Say, do you know who cursed the ring? Who cursed Ja—my mate?"

Grayhead stuck his nose between Eric and Jackie's faces and inhaled deeply. "Perhaps."

* * *

The giant rose trapped Donna as much as it protected her. Through a tiny space in the petals, she could only watch as her friends fought for their lives. The woods were overrun by wolves. Rhonda had taken out three with her axe when three more got the drop on her from the trees. Fez was too far away to help, struggling to ward off a tenacious wolf of his own. Kelso, though, finished off two wolves with his dagger and came to Rhonda's aid.

Rhonda had managed to throw one of the wolves off her back, but the other two clawed at her face. Her leather armor afforded a decent amount of protection, but her neck could still be broken. She ignored the two on her back and swung her axe at the wolf she'd toppled to the ground. He rolled away from the blade and retreated into the forest.

Kelso, meanwhile, arrived just as as the wolves on Rhonda's back did some damage. One wolf bit Rhonda's ear. Kelso plunged his dagger into the wolf's arm, but the second wolf tackled him before he could retrieve the dagger. Rhonda retrieved it for him and slashed at the first wolf's neck. He fell from her back to the dirt, clutching his throat.

The second wolf was on top of Kelso, and Rhonda grabbed the wolf by the hair. She yanked up his face. It was covered in blood— _Kelso's._

Donna looked away, and her ears filled with a delicate, feminine voice: " _And when she gets lonely, she's thinking 'bout her man._ " Her engagement ring was singing Joplin. " _She knows he's taking her for granted..._ "  
  
"Cut it out," she whispered. Thinking about Eric right now wasn't an option, and she looked back through the petals. Kelso was on his feet again. The wolf's teeth had scraped the hell out of his chest, but the wound appeared superficial.

Donna swallowed a silent cheer. Her friends had almost won. Only a few wolves were left, but they were howling.

Another pack of wolves surged in from the forest— _reinforcements—_ and Donna tried to pry apart the rose's petals. She needed to be outside fighting instead of stuck inside a damn flower! But the petals were too thick and refused to budge.

_Laurie,_ she thought desperately, _let me out. I have to help them!_

She wrenched the petals one last time then gave up. The last wolf to emerge from the forest was carrying a dead animal over his shoulder, maybe a deer. He didn't join in the fight against her friends. Instead, he maneuvered around the fray and headed directly for the giant rose—for her.

Donna crouched low inside the petals and held her breath, but the wolf passed by her, too. He resembled the rest of his brethren, but the animal he carried resembled no animal she'd ever seen before...

Because it wasn't an animal at all but a _man._ The body was chewed up, organs were exposed, and all was drenched in blood. His curly hair was soaked crimson, and his arms dangled limply over the wolf's back, like thick noodles coated in marinara sauce—

"Hyde!" Donna shouted. "Oh, God!" She squeezed her hand between the rose petal and tried to reach him, to touch him, but the wolf disappeared into the woods—in the same direction where Eric and Jackie had been taken. "No... no!"

A numbing wave swept through her body, separating her mind from her heart. She returned her focus to Fez and the others. They were still fighting, and they were losing.

This new pack of wolves seemed nastier—and hungrier—than the first. One of the wolves had Rhonda's leather-clad arm in his jaws. Fez raced to her side and stabbed him in the thigh, but two wolves tore him away and ripped at his clothing.

Kelso was fleeing from four wolves, but they were almost on top of him. Two of them leapt onto his back, and he flipped them to the ground. His reflexes were incredible; Donna hardly believed how fast he moved. He raised his dagger for an attack, but that gave the other two wolves an opening. They dove at his legs, and he crashed onto the wolves he'd tossed off.

Rhonda barreled toward him, club in her hand. Her face was bleeding, and three wolves were following close behind—until an explosion of blue dust hit them from nowhere.

_Wolfsbane._ Clouds and clouds of it burst onto the battle field. It froze the wolves like statues, and they fell stiffly to the ground. Fez reached Kelso before Rhonda did, but it was unnecessary. Kelso shoved the wolves off him as if they were stuffed animals. The whole pack had been incapacitated.

Donna thanked God and collapsed against the rose's petals, but her relief shattered as her friends became surrounded again. Over a dozen figures in hooded, red cloaks encircled them. They had to be the ones who'd taken out the wolves, but were they liberators... or new assailants?


	42. Meat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 42  
 **MEAT**  


Eric's breath blasted Jackie's ear with warmth, and his fingers dug into her back. Then he was gone. She reached forward and caught his jacket, and he pulled her to the dirt ground. Her hand landed on something hard and slick, like a rock coated in oil. _Disgusting._ It was bad enough being captured by wolves and having her finger stuck in their meat-stinking mouths. But what had her hand landed on? She brought her palm to her face and sniffed it. The sharp metallic scent of blood entered her nostrils.

Had someone thrown a rock at Eric? Was he bleeding? Without her sight or hearing, she could only guess. She returned her hand to the blood-coated rock and squeezed. No, it was a knee. Whose was it? _Whose was it?_

She found the other knee. It was just as slippery, and her palms slid up greasy and cratered thighs to a body part that told her it was a man—or maybe it was a wolf. She shut her blind eyes. _Please, God, let it be a wolf_. But her fingers slipped into bloody crevices, and she pulled her hands away.

_No,_ she had to know. She placed her hands on the man's chest. Jagged and moist trenches were cut deep into the skin, into the muscle— _oh, God,_ she knew who it was. She knew, and her palms found his sideburns. They were matted in blood.

"Steven,"she whispered. Her touch glided down his slippery arm, and she grabbed his hand. It didn't squeeze hers back. His fingers were cold and limp, but he wasn't dead. She'd have her sight back if he were dead. The curse wasn't broken, which meant he had to be alive. Her fingers pressed into his neck and found a weak pulse. "Thank God, thank God,"she said and returned her palms to his face.

Her thumbs rubbed his greasy lips. They were still slightly warm. She kissed them, but they didn't answer, and the taste of his blood permeated her tongue.

She grasped her engagement ring. If she took it off, she'd be able to see him, talk to him, _help_ him. Maybe it would make the wolves leave them alone. She slid the ring past her first knuckle, but the curse would transfer to Steven if she did this. It could steal whatever strength he had left, and the wolves could just kill them both afterward—because they'd have what they wanted. .

Tears rose in her eyes as she pushed the ring back up her finger. Her lips brushed Steven's again, fervently, desperately. She'd keep on kissing him until he woke. Because he _had_ to wake. He had to.

* * *

Eric had finally shut himself up. He was trembling silently in the dirt while Hyde lay there in his own blood. He'd been slaughtered, and the wolves around them salivated as if he were their next meal. They were more than animals; they were beasts, and Eric wanted no part of them.

He grasped Hyde's wrist and felt for a heartbeat. It was weak but present. Hyde's torn, bleeding chest rose and fell shallowly. He was breathing, too, and Kitty's first-aid lessons jumped to the forefront of Eric's mind. He ripped the lining of his jacket to create tourniquets for the wounds in Hyde's arms and legs. But then a wolf snarled, and several more advanced, but the youngest—the boy—retreated to the back of the brick-walled house.

"No one is to touch them!" Grayhead growled, and Eric had no idea why. Did Grayhead have mercy for a non-wolf after all? Or did he want Hyde's death to take as long as possible?

The wolves backed off, but the one who'd brought Hyde in pointed to Jackie. "I recognized her sent on him," he said. She was covered in Hyde's blood and kissing his face. Eric didn't know what good it would do. Hyde was going to bleed to death... Hell, he should have bled to death _already._

Jackie pushed her lips against Hyde's mouth and kissed him deeply. Her eyes were filled with tears, and Eric's were, too, but his were angry. He wanted to kill every damn wolf in the Nine Kingdoms—or, at least, in this room. They just stood there silently as Jackie cried into Hyde's crimson-smeared neck. His mouth was slack, his nostrils were caked with blood, but his eyes...

They were _open._ Not much, but enough that Eric could see the blue rim of his irises.

"Hey," Eric whispered by Hyde's blood-streaked ear. He grabbed Hyde's cold hand and squeezed. No response... except for a weak sound full of pain. It groaned from Hyde's throat. Eric had never hear the like from him before, but the sound meant Hyde was conscious.

"Very good," Grayhead said, as if he'd been waiting for just this moment. "Ullock, come here, pup!"

The boy's eyes widened with fear, but his jaw was set with determination. He'd been challenged to do something against his own nature, something to prove himself to the leader of his pack. Eric recognized this situation all too well. Red often challenged him the same way.

Grayhead slug an arm around Ullock's thin shoulders. "Tell me, pup, do you know why the meat is still breathing?"

"B—because he still has a neck?"

Grayhead's hoarse laughter scratched the air. "We are good at keeping prey alive but not _that_ good. No..." He led Ullock to Hyde's body, and Eric tried to block their way. He had to protect Hyde and Jackie, who was still leaning over Hyde's body—but Grayhead shoved Eric to the dirt floor.

"Haven't you bastards done enough?" Eric shouted. Hot tears burned his cheeks, and he moved to stand again, but Grayhead signaled to three wolves. They pressed Eric down and kept him on his knees.

"See how his wounds continue to bleed?" Grayhead said, and Ullock nodded. "Touch one."

Ullock glanced at Eric sadly before he knelt by Jackie. Was the boy silently asking for sympathy or giving it? Perhaps neither... because however young he was, Ullock was still a wolf. He studied the topography of Hyde's chest— now a landscape of injury—and dug two fingers into a gouge oozing crimson. Hyde's thumb twitched at the contact. A strained breath left him, and Eric was glad Jackie could no longer hear or see.

"Taste it," Grayhead said, and Ullock pulled his red-stained fingers from Hyde's body. He licked the blood off them. Then his mind seemed to process what he was tasting, and his face registered something like surprise.

"It tastes like she smells!" Ullock said and put a hand on Jackie's arm. She thrust him off without leaving Hyde's side.

"Splendid!" Grayhead pulled Ullock to his feet and ruffled his auburn hair. "You've developed very keen senses, my boy. Now, can you tell me what is keeping the meat alive?"

Ullock fixed his gaze on Jackie. "Love?"

"Precisely, but love can do only so much, replenish the blood for only so long. The meat will die soon, as all our prey eventually does."

"Stop calling him that!" Eric said. This lesson in wolfdom sickened him, and Hyde deserved better than to be discussed so callously.

Grayhead, though, acted as if Eric had said nothing. He thumped Ullock on the back. "You've done well, pup. We'll make a wolf out of you yet." Then he gestured for Ullock to rejoin the pack of observing wolves.

"It is clear that _these_ two are mates," Grayhead said after a moment and gestured to Jackie and Hyde. "Things will be easier now... and tastier."

He grasped Jackie beneath her arms, but she fought to stay with Hyde. Eric struggled against the wolves holding him—he had to help her—but they were too strong, and Grayhead ripped Jackie from Hyde's body. She twisted in his grip then, miraculously, landed a knee hard to his groin.

"Perhaps I spoke too quickly." Grayhead's words were a groan. He doubled over and kept only one hand on Jackie's arm.

She wrenched herself free, but the wolf who'd carried Hyde into the house pounced on her. He grabbed her arms, shoved them to her sides, and forced them to stay there. Then he brought his lips to her ear. "Your mate is almost dead."

The whisper was soft and cruel, and it went unheard by Jackie. Eric thanked God for that, but what horrors had Hyde gone through? Had the wolves ripped into him mindlessly without pause—or did they taunt him, allowing him to go "free" before they tore out more pieces?

"You may have his heart, Vojin," Grayhead said, "for bringing him in." He'd recovered from Jackie's knee too quickly, and he was speaking to the wolf who had Jackie now. "You've risen in the ranks, my friend, but this one's solely mine." He took Jackie into his embrace and raised her left hand to his mouth

"No!" Eric shouted.

"Ah, yes. You." Grayhead sounded bored, but he lowered Jackie's hand. "You are free to go. No wolf will harm you."

"I'm not leaving without them—without my friends."

"Oh, all right." A chuckle scraped at Grayhead's throat. "I'll give you a choice. You can have our lunch," he nodded at Hyde, "or the girl— _after_ I take the ring."

Hyde moaned from the floor. "Ja..."

"I'll take the girl," Eric said.

"Getting your rival out of the way? Smart pup." Grayhead forced Jackie's hand back toward his face, but he didn't chomp down on her finger. Instead, he tugged on the ring, and to Eric's great astonishment, it moved. Only a millimeter, but the ring had definitely moved.

"As I thought..." Grayhead said, "and hoped." He pulled harder, and the ring traveled up Jackie's finger as if it were under very deep water. Part of her must have wanted the ring to come off. She'd felt Hyde's body, had to know what condition he was in. Still, she struggled to free herself from Grayhead's grasp, and he broke into a grin.

Eric knew now why Grayhead hadn't just bitten off her finger. Prolonging Jackie's anguish was fun for him.

The ring slid past her second knuckle and reached the last. She screamed silently, and witnessing her terror-fueled fury mustered Eric's strength. He shook off the wolves restraining him and finally managed to stand, but three others rushed in. He fought to get to Jackie but was overpowered.

Thoughts fled Eric's mind and were replaced by crimson—by Hyde's blood—and he sank his teeth into a wolf's arm. Another wolf pried him off and wagged a finger at him.

"Uh-uh," the wolf said. "You only get once chance to do that." Meaning, if Eric attacked again, they wouldn't hold back. He'd end up like Hyde.

So he watched helplessly as the ring edged closer to Jackie's fingernail. Grayhead's eyes blazed orange, and his sharp teeth gleamed in the torchlight He was looking more wolfish by the second, as if he would transform into a fur-covered animal.

Jackie writhed in his grip. The ring was almost off her, but a cold wind swept into the brick house, and the torches guttered. Then a cloud of blue exploded in Grayhead's face.

_Wolfsbane._

Grayhead stiffened, and Jackie pulled free from his frozen hand. She shoved the ring back up her finger before he dropped to the dirt like a mannequin.

More Wolfsbane clouds burst against the wolves' backs, their faces. Eric was free now, and he bolted to Jackie. He covered her body protectively as red-cloaked figures stepped through the blue dust. Whoever they were, they had good aim. No wolf was left moving when the clouds dissipated. Hyde hadn't been hit, and neither had Eric; otherwise, he'd be as paralyzed as the wolves.

"Th—thank you," he said, but none of the cloaked figures seemed to hear him. Their faces were obscured by red hoods, and they all gathered around Hyde. Eric pulled Jackie over to them. He didn't know their intentions, and Hyde was far too vulnerable to be messed with by curious hands. "That's my brother," he said, hoping it would deter them.

One of the cloaked figures turned toward him. "I know." The voice was distinctly female, but the hood obscured it.

"W—who are you?" Eric was trembling, but he forced whatever fear he could from his eyes. The figure's red-gloved hands pulled off her hood, and the face beneath smiled back tenderly...

It was Donna's.


	43. Marble, Stone, and Iron Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. “Marmor, Stein und Eisen Bricht” (p) Power Station. “I Saw It in the Mirror” (C) 2008 Polar Music International AB.

CHAPTER 43  
 **MARBLE, STONE, AND IRON BREAK**  


Several Red Caps were guarding the door to Grayhead's house. Donna found it remarkable that they were all girls, none older than sixteen or seventeen. They called themselves Queen Riding Hood's "elite force of messengers," but they were far more than that.

The unconscious wolves had been dragged to one side of the torchlit room, where three Red Caps kept watch on them. The remaining Red Caps were on their hands and knees in the dirt, tending to Hyde. Donna's heart had hardened into ice upon seeing him again. His body resembled a carcass, something chewed up and left for vultures to finish off. But the ice inside her chest became liquid once Eric took her in his arms. Her husband was safe. He was here, and she couldn't stop crying into his shoulder.

Then she heard Hyde groan. The sound was feeble and shot through with frustration, as if he didn't understand why he couldn't just throw off his pain and get up. Jackie was sitting by him, stroking his face and kissing it. Blood covered her hair, skin, and clothes—had to be Hyde's. His wounds were still weeping crimson.

"You have to step aside, Miss," a Red Cap said to Jackie, but even if Jackie hadn't been deaf, she wouldn't have moved. So Donna left Eric's side and dragged her away.

"No!" Jackie shouted silently. She elbowed Donna in the ribs, pinched any piece of flesh she could find. Donna grabbed Jackie's wrists but felt terrible about it. Jackie had no way of knowing who held her.

"Donna—Donna, let me." Eric took Jackie's hand, and she quieted down.

The sight was unexpected, and Donna flinched. "Wow..."

"Yeah, I have a magic touch," he said, and Donna cupped the nape of his neck. She kissed him deeply, leaving out none of her feelings, and he stammered after they parted. "And—and you, my lady, have a magic kiss."

"You bet I do." She slid her arm around his back as the Red Caps tried to stanch Hyde's wounds. "Eric..." She needed him to say something, _anything_ to make this better, but the house's heavy stone door scraped open before he got out a word.

Kelso, Fez, and Rhonda entered the house. The Red Caps had forbidden Fez to be part of their attack on the wolves. They wouldn't put the the Fourth Kingdom's sovereign in jeopardy, they said, so Kelso and Rhonda stayed outside to guard him. Donna, though, had insisted on being part of the attack—and they'd let her because of Eric.

"No way... _no way!_ " Kelso moved toward Hyde, but Fez held him back. "He's gonna be all right, right? He's gotta be all right." Kelso sounded nothing like an experienced soldier, only like a man afraid for his friend. "I thought you were exaggerating, Donna!"

She hadn't spared one gruesome detail when relaying what she'd seen in the woods—how a wolf had carried Hyde's limp and blood-drenched body past her. The image was cut into her brain, along with that of him lying here in the dirt, but she forced herself to look at him again. The Red Caps had sutured his smaller wounds with red thread. His more serious injuries couldn't be sewn-up, though. Moss was applied to them, darker than the kind in Bean Town, but blood oozed around the seals. Worse, Hyde wasn't groaning anymore.

"Do you think so?" a Red Cap whispered. "They're only tales."

"That's so romantic," another Red Cap whispered.

A third Red Cap waved her arm toward Jackie, "Miss... Miss, we need you!" and Eric brought her back to them.

"What's going on?" he said.

"Mr. Hyde is dying—" a younger Red Cap said.

An older Red Cap swatted her shoulder. "He's fallen _unconscious_ again."

Jackie was guided to Hyde's body. Eric should have stepped back, but he couldn't seem to. Donna joined him there, unable to stay away herself. Jackie was crying over Hyde's face and hugging his body If that had been Eric lying in the dirt...

Donna's throat grew tight, and Eric put his arm around her.

"Ja... Jackie," Hyde moaned. His blood-smeared hands twitched up, but they had no strength to reach her. "Don't..."

"No, Mr. Hyde," an older Red Cap said, "she needs to cry. It's saving your life."

"Keep crying, Jackie!" Kelso shouted.

"Kelso, she can't hear you," Fez said.

Kelso took out his dagger. "I can _make_ her cry,"

"Okay, tough guy," Rhonda stepped in front of him, "calm it down."

Kelso peered over Rhonda's shoulder. "It would only be a flesh wound, to keep her going."

"It wouldn't work," Fez said. "Hyde needs an outpouring of true love. I have heard stories from my grandmother. When someone is mortally wounded, the tears of his beloved can heal him... but only if they're cried from _love._ Snow White said it is not the tears themselves that do the healing, but the love behind them. Loving someone enough to shed part of yourself."

"Why?" Donna said. Embarrassingly, her own tears had started up again, and Eric held her tighter. "How can love do that?"

"Marble, stone, and iron break," Fez said, "but not true love." He slid his hand into Rhonda's and brought her wrist to his lips. "It never dies and makes life worth fighting for."

"Hyde's gotta be okay," Kelso said.

"He will be," Eric said. "Jackie can cry for days on end."

Everyone waited tensely while Jackie wept and the Red Caps did what they could to seal up Hyde's wounds. Their efforts seemed to be working because Hyde grew more mouthy as time went on, alternating between griping at the Red Caps and kissing Jackie. Only problem with the latter, though, was that kissing Jackie made her stop crying—which made Hyde's wounds reopen. He'd groan in pain, his head would drop back, and Jackie would start crying again. Then Hyde would heal enough to resume kissing her, which began the whole process over.

"Keep your lips off her, you dink!" Donna shouted at him. "Just let her cry."

Hyde must have gotten the message because two hours later, his wounds finally quit bleeding. His voice was no longer a hoarse whisper, and his hands had enough strength to ball into fists. After another two hours, the Red Caps helped him to stand.

"I can do it myself," he said and shook them off, but his legs gave out. The Red Caps had to support his weight, and though he grumbled, he let them do it. Jackie was standing with him. One of his blood-stained, red-stitched arms held her around the waist, and her cheek pressed into his equally bloody and sutured-up chest—maybe to feel his heartbeat.

Laughter filled Donna's throat, the kind that came with tears of relief. Eric was rubbing her back, and his face looked the way hers felt.

Hyde scowled at them. "Man, you damn people keep crying over me. Cut it the fuck out."

"Shut up," Donna said and hugged him gently. Eric, Kelso, and Fez all hugged him, too, careful not to squish Jackie in the process. No one seemed to care about the blood or his nakedness. Hyde's hand landed on Donna's hip. He was hugging them back.

"I've never seen someone covered in that much blood before," Kelso said afterward. "You look freakin' awesome!"

"You gonna try to beat it? 'Cause it hurt like hell." Hyde glanced back at the Red Caps, who were still supporting him. "Still kinda does."

His admission tightened Donna's pulse. She wanted to hug him again and yell at the same time. What the Trolls had done to him was nothing in comparison to the wolves. If he even _thought_ about pulling another stunt like that, she was going to kick his ass—curse or no curse.

"Hyde, you idiot," Fez said. "What were you thinking, going after wolves by yourself?"

Hyde sucked in a breath then blew it out. "It was just one, man. They ambushed me."

"They never travel alone," a Red Cap said.

"Some of them do," Donna said.

"Not in Red Riding Hood Forest," the Red Caps said together.

"Come on, Donna," Eric squeezed her shoulder, "you can't still trust that... guy."

He meant Wolf, and she did still trust him. "Are all humans held responsible for _their_ worst examples?" she said, and Eric sighed, which didn't tell her much.

"Crap." Hyde was looking down at himself. "I need pants."

"The hell with pants, man." Eric said. "You need a shower. You look like Carrie... and smell worse."

A Red Cap nodded. "The scent of your blood is sure to attract wolves."

"There's a pond down by the path," another Red Cap said. "You can all wash in it."

"What about Grayhead?" a third said. "We have him. We should use the opportun—"

"Too dangerous." The oldest-looking Red Cap shook her head. "We're conspicuous enough. We'll need our remaining Wolfsbane to get out of the forest."

A minute or so of conferring, and the Red Caps had made their decision. Most went to the pond with "King Fez and his entourage" while some left to procure fresh clothing. The path leading to the pond was free of wolves, but on their way into the village, the Red Caps had ensured they'd have no witnesses. The amount of Wolfsbane they carried on them was insane.

A few of the Red Caps helped Hyde clean up in the pond, and they did so with maturity. More surprising was that Hyde let them do it without a hassle. Jackie, though, was a different story. She freaked out a little when Hyde took off her clothes. But he splashed some water on her feet, ran his wet hand up and down her calf, and she got the idea.

Some of Hyde's blood had gotten on Donna's face and hands from hugging him. She could've just stuck her head in the water and cleaned off her hands, but she took off the Red Cap's cloak and slipped into the pond. She had so much she wanted to wash off, like the last week. It would probably give her nightmares for the rest of her life.

She peered over at Eric, who was already clean and out of the pond. Nightmares already bothered her from their last time in the Nine Kingdoms. She never shared them, but when was the last time he shared his nightmares with her?Maybe she needed to go first, to let him know it was okay.

He was standing with some of the younger Red Caps now and covering his nakedness with his hands. The Red Caps were checking Kelso, Fez, and Rhonda's wounds. Theirs were mostly superficial, earned from the fight in the woods. Moss had been applied to them earlier, before the assault on Grayhead, and they already looked well-healed.

"Don't you have to wash your cloaks?" Eric said to the Red Caps. They couldn't have been older than twelve or thirteen.

"Oh, no," a Red Cap said. "They're magic. So are our gloves. Blood doesn't stick to us."

Soon, the other group of Red Caps arrived with fresh clothes—cotton shirts and pants, just like the wolves wore. Everyone dressed in them but Rhonda, who insisted on keeping her Troll armor. Then the Red Caps led them from the wolves' village.

Paralyzed wolves lined the dirt paths. They lay frozen in front of their straw houses and beneath the thatched awnings of stores. Donna marveled at their surroundings. How could people who lived in a civilized society act so brutally? Perhaps because these wolves _were_ people. How many wars had humans fought with each other? How many times had they oppressed or abused a segment of the population because of skin color or religion, gender or sexual preference?

Something had to change. Everyone deserved safety and happiness, but not by shoving his neighbor into the fire in order to get it. Those were Wolf's words. They'd stuck with her, and she wished he were here now.

"Donna?" Eric said and squeezed her hand.

"I'm okay."

In moments, they arrived at the dense wall of trees encircling the village. It was meant to protect the wolves from outsiders, but they hadn't counted on the cleverness of the Red Caps. These girls were incredibly skilled, and if Eric's cousin Penny had anything to do with that, Donna needed to thank her big-time.

A dirt tunnel ran beneath the tree roots and led back to the forest. It was wide enough for two to crawl side-by-side. Eric and Donna went together fairly quickly, and Hyde and Jackie crawled behind them. But halfway through, Hyde started cursing. Donna glanced over her shoulder at him. His movements were slow, but he kept going until his swears dissolved into grunts. He couldn't seem to crawl anymore, so Donna went back to him. Rhonda joined her, and they dragged him through the tunnel.

Eric took charge of Jackie as if it were a given, and she didn't fight him as he guided her through the tunnel. His effect on her was truly amazing. She trusted him, maybe because Hyde had trusted him with her. Donna hoped that fact had some effect on Eric himself.

The tunnel eventually opened into thick undergrowth, and Jackie batted at the bushes with obvious annoyance. Eric brought her through them and put an arm around her back, but she reached out. Her fingers grabbed at the air, as if waiting for Hyde to fill them.

"He'll be here in a minute, Jackie," Eric said, not that she could hear him.

Donna and Rhonda pulled Hyde free of the tunnel. They stood him up, but Rhonda said, "Don't move." She drew her axe from its sheath and hacked at the underbrush, clearing a path through it.

"Nice." Donna nodded her approval as Rhonda returned to Hyde's side. They walked with him between the cut bushes, and he mumbled a thank-you before staggering from their arms. He eased a hand around Jackie's waist, and she cried into his shirt. The tears seemed to fortify him. He was able to stand without any more help.

Eric grasped Donna's hand. "Rhonda's pretty good with that axe, huh?" he said.

"You should have seen her against the wolves," Donna said, but her gaze remained on Jackie. Jackie's sobs had dried up, and Donna's threatened to begin yet again. Only a week had passed since Jackie lost her voice, but... "Eric, I really miss her."

"That's the trauma talking." He gave Donna one of her favorite smiles, the teasing kind where he lowered his brow and glanced up at her through his lashes.

"Quickly now," the Red Caps said once everyone was through the tunnel. They formed a protective ring around Donna, Eric, and their friends, but they moved from the wolf village slowly because of Hyde. He could walk only baby steps. He tried to go faster, to let Jackie—blind as she was—pull him forward, but his legs collapsed beneath him. He crashed onto the leaves and dirt, and Kelso rushed to his side.

"I got ya, buddy," Kelso said and lifted Hyde up. Hyde didn't argue and leaned on Kelso for support as he walked. " _Burn,_ by the way."

Hyde smirked. "Yeah, it's a good one."

Jackie squeezed herself under his other arm, and he managed a decent pace with her and Kelso's help. In good time, the Red Caps and everyone inside their ring were well-away from the wolf village.

Red Riding Hood Forest was thick with trees. What little sky peeked through the canopy was gray, and the air had grown colder. Donna shivered even with Fez's jacket on her, and Eric pulled her into his side for warmth. After a half-hour of traveling, her appetite—long suppressed by terror—returned with a vengeance. Her stomach was growling.

"Think you could eat a whole deer?" Eric said.

"If Rhonda gets us one, I wouldn't turn my nose up at it."

"She better get us two, then, because I'm starving."

"You're always starving." Donna combed her fingers through his hair while they walked. _This_ was her Eric, silly and kind and brave... She grazed a knuckle down his stubbly cheek. "You know, if you don't shave, you might accomplish your first beard."

"Maybe that's what Laurie intended," he said. "Maybe _that's_ the big secret she—"

"Damn it!" Hyde's shout rang out in the cold air. He'd sunk to his knees, and the Red Caps swarmed in on him. "I'm cool, I'm cool," he said and waved them off. "Just... is it gonna stop freakin' hurting?"

Another admission of pain, and anxiety bubbled into Donna's chest.

"You're still weak, Mr. Hyde," a Red Cap said. "You need to eat and rest."

"Can't you give him some Wolfsbane or something?" Eric said. "You know, to numb him out?"

A Red Cap shook her hooded head. "It'll make the pain worse in the beginning, and he'll likely pass out before the numbness sets in."

"Too bad you don't have any stash left," Kelso said and helped Hyde back to his feet.

"Yeah, too bad." Hyde peered through the trees. "Where the hell are you chicks taking us, anyway?"

"To Red Riding Hood Castle, of course," a Red Cap said.

" _No._ " Fez put up his hand. "We need to go to Gingerbread Town. It is much closer, and I have the—paperwork Yes. Lots and lots of paperwork before the Pie and Candy Expo. I'm the provisional ruler of Gretel's half of the kingdom. Responsibility, and... um... I said, 'Gingerbread Town!'"

Donna stared at him. He was clearly lying. The Council of the Nine Kingdoms was being held in Gingerbread Town. Surely Penny—Queen Riding Hood—would be attending it. Why keep it a secret from her messengers?

"Whatever you wish, Your Majesty," the Red Caps said, and they all curtsied.

* * *

Rain was dropping from gunmetal-gray clouds. It bombarded the trees and ground, but the Red Caps had escorted everyone to a gingerbread safehouse. Hyde wanted to keep going until they hit Gingerbread Town, but his body disagreed. He was exhausted, and he was in pain, and seeing the beds inside the house kept him from arguing.

He leaned against a wall out of necessity; he didn't want to spook Jackie or their friends with a sudden collapse. Pastel light shone from glowing gumdrops clustered in the corners, and the windows must have been made from clear sugar.

"These cottages are scattered throughout the forest's southern half," a Red Cap said. "Gretel the Great put them here to protect her people from wolves, Trolls, and Ogres. They're magic, made from actual gingerbread. You can pull off a piece," she tore a chunk from one of the nightstands, "and it grows right back!"

She was right. The missing piece of nightstand grew back almost instantly. She handed Hyde the chunk of gingerbread, and he sniffed at it cautiously. Smelled like cinnamon.

"Go on," she said. "It's delicious."

He stuck the chunk in his mouth. It tasted like cinnamon, too. Not his favorite flavor, but good enough.

"Everything in this house is edible," another Red Cap said.

Thick candy canes served as window sills, and Fez's hand dug into one of them. "Oh, candy, I'm under your spell," he said and sucked on a fistful of peppermint.

Hyde's legs began to shake. Leaning against the wall wasn't cutting it anymore. He sat down on one of the cottage's four beds, and he brought Jackie with him. Then he ripped off a piece of the headboard and shared it with her.

Everyone enjoyed a quiet dinner of sweets and cookies. Thankfully, the cottage also had a pump that brought in milk, which they drank from cups molded from candied fruit. The cups flavored the milk like cereal often did, and Hyde didn't mind, though beer would've been his first preference.

Jackie's fingers entwined with his while they ate, but her touch soothed only a fraction of his pain. The wolves had bitten him on every exposed piece of flesh, eaten chunks of him. He should've died, yet Jackie's tears caused the missing pieces of himself to grow back—same as this gingerbread house regenerated itself. Damned if he knew how that was possible, but not all his wounds had healed. Not even close. They were patched up with the Red Caps' moss, and each one was a pit of fire searing his nerves.  
 _  
_The gingerbread roof became a cacophony of sound during the meal. Raindrops hit the house like bullets but without the damage. The Red Caps seemed unconcerned, but Hyde said, "Is this place gonna melt under all that water?"

"No, Mr. Hyde," a Red Cap said. "It's magic."

"So you keep sayin'."

"The weather should keep us safe," another Red Cap said. "Rain tends to keep the wolves away."

The Red Caps chattered among themselves, not like teenage girls but mature soldiers, about things like where the closest wolf villages were. Then, after dinner, they insisted everyone get some rest. The Red Caps would guard the cottage. Their cloaks would protect them from getting wet. "We'll continue our journey to Gingerbread Town in the morning," they said and began to file out of the cottage.

"Hey, wait..." Hyde stood from the bed, which was difficult without help, and addressed the Red Cap closest to him. "Thanks, man... for not letting me die."

The girl blushed and pulled on her hood. "Mr. Hyde, thank your beloved. Love like yours is very special."

"And important," a younger Red Cap said. "It doesn't just affect you, but ev—"

An older girl grabbed her by the elbow, as if to shut her up, and Hyde raised an eyebrow. These chicks, as badass as they were, had a few secrets. Just like their boss, Queen Riding Hood—Penny.

"Get some sleep, Mr. Hyde," the older girl said. "It will help you heal."

"Yeah, about that..." he sat back down on the bed, "don't think it's gonna happen."

"Yeah, it will," Kelso said. He was sitting on the bed diagonally opposite from Hyde's. "If I'd been chewed up like that, I'd be exhausted."

"I _am_ exhausted, man, but I'm also..." Hyde rubbed the nape of his neck and looked away. Agony burned through his body as if he'd been torched, but he'd bitched about it enough. "Whatever. It's cool."

The last of the Red Caps exited the cottage. Donna started to follow, but Forman grasped her hand. "Donna, where are you going?"

"I'll be back in a second. I just want to ask them something about, um... the forest."

Forman let her go and plunked down on a stool made of pretzel. Four of these stools surrounded a gingerbread table. The "dining area," as it were, stood halfway between the four beds and the cottage door.

"I should get my mom one of these," Forman said and broke off a piece of the table, "only hers should be made of bacon."

"I'd take one of those," Hyde mustered a grin, "but mine would be made of weed."

That was the last he said for a while. He pulled off the boots the Red Caps had gotten him, but the effort made his eyes water and his heart pound. Removing his pants and shirt seemed like a bad idea. The attempt would likely incapacitate him, and his patched-up wounds would be exposed. So he concentrated on helping Jackie instead.

He slipped off her shoes and flipped the covers back from the bed. Then he guided her into the sheets. He slid in next to her while their friends stayed up—walking, talking—but he had no energy to care about what they said or did.

Jackie settled into his arms, and her head lay on his chest. The weight of her made the pain in his body worse, but he couldn't move her off—had no strength or desire to. One of his hands buried itself in her hair, and his thumb weakly stroked her ear. It was gonna be a long night, but less than a minute later, she sat up as if she'd been spooked.

"What's up?" he said despite her deafness. She patted her heart frantically then pointed to him. "What?" He dragged two fingers to his neck. His pulse was racing. "Yeah, I know." He tried to pull her back to him, but the effort was futile. She refused to go, and in his pathetic state, he had no chance of making her.

"You're hurting,"she mouthed. The cottage's pastel light wasn't bright, but it was enough for him to read her lips by, and his mind clouded over with fear.

"Hell, you can't feel it... can you?"

But if she'd been feeling what he did, she would've been screaming. Her blind eyes were dry, too. All good signs, and his heart rate slowed a little.

He tried once again to bring her back to his body. She didn't resist this time and relaxed on top of him. One of her hands reached up and swept over his forehead tenderly. Though her presence didn't take the pain away, it did make him feel better. He shut his eyes and focused on that.

"Hyde..."

His eyes opened. Donna was crouched by his bed, with hair wet from the rain.

"Hyde," she whispered again, "the Red Caps said now would be a good time to, um... do it."

"Do what?"

"You know... _'it'._ They said having sex 'with your beloved' should cut your pain by half and speed up your recovery."

"I'm fine," Hyde said, but fresh hurt surged up his legs and into his hips. He bit down a groan and clutched at the bed sheets—and hoped Donna hadn't noticed.

"Look," she glanced behind her, as if to make sure no one was listening, "we'll all hang out with the Red Caps outside the cottage. You and Jackie can be together. Just... how long does it usually take for—"

He grinned at her. She hated talking about this kind of thing, asking these kinds of questions. If it had been any other time, any other situation, he would've burned the hell out of her—and maybe Forman in the process. But she was pushing past her level of comfort, putting her own crap aside, for _him._

"Donna, thanks, but I'll deal with it. Go be with Forman."

"At least make out with her," she said.

"Maybe I will. Go. Forman. Now."She stood but didn't leave his bedside. "We really do love you, Hyde... all of us."

"Fuck, come on..." He had no strength to sit up, but his hand slid around the back of Donna's calf. "Don't worry about me, okay? I'll be fine."

"You're allowed to have people care about you for more than five minutes, you know."

He slapped her calf, and pinpricks of pain stabbed his fingers. "Would ya stop freakin' fussing and snooze-off?"

"I'm not _fussing._ "She rolled her eyes, but she was laughing, too. "Well, maybe a little."

"Yeah." His own eyes closed, couldn't keep them open anymore, and her footsteps faded on the gingerbread floor. She was gone.

Hyde renewed his weak grip around Jackie and pressed his lips to her temple. He had no issue with their friends leaving the cottage so he and Jackie could have some fun-time. The problem was he didn't know if he could manage a hard-on—or if Jackie even wanted it. Plus, they didn't have any rubbers. Keeping her from getting her pregnant, on top of everything else, was worth a night of pain.

* * *

"My God, Steven,"Jackie said into Hyde's chest.. She'd had brief flashes of pain—more _sensed_ than really felt—and she knew it was his. The way his heart was beating, the subtle tremble in his body, the weakness in his hands. She had no idea who'd rescued them from the wolves or what was really happening. All she understood was that Steven had almost died, and she had saved him somehow by crying. "Steven," she repeated, but she had no idea what else to say.

Nausea sickened her stomach, but not from her sugary dinner. Being trapped inside her own body was almost too much to bear. She wanted to break out of it, from the silence and the darkness, but the price was too high.

Steven's hand slipped beneath her shirt. Usually, he'd rub her back, but his palm and fingers just lay flat. Even so, his touch soothed her stomach, but her eyes welled with hot tears. She wanted to comfort him, to give him what strength she had, but keeping on the ring was the best thing she could do.

Lately, the curse reminded her of a book he'd once lent her, George Orwell's _Nineteen Eighty-Four._ "Get the meaning of this book," Steven had said, "and you're halfway to gettin' me." They'd come back from their first college visits, and he'd finally fully—and publicly—admitted she was his girlfriend. The price of that confession was reading the book.

So she read it, and it was horrible. Especially the end when Winston Smith, who was _supposed_ to be the hero, betrayed his love to save himself. She'd had nightmares for weeks after she finished it. Her nights were spent in dreamscapes where Steven gave into Big Brother's torture and betrayed her to stop it.

Big Brother was _Nineteen Eighty-Four's_ repressive government, represented by a mustached man with no love in his eyes. Sometimes it showed up in her dreams as her own father. Sometimes _she_ was the one betraying Steven.

She'd tossed the book at Steven's head when she finished it, and he said, "You get why I don't trust people now?"

"Yeah, because you read that stupid book."

To even the score, she'd made him listen to three ABBA albums consecutively at her house. They'd give _him_ nightmares, he claimed. But he listened to them anyway, which proved his willingness to stretch himself for her, that their relationship wasn't a one-way street.

Jackie giggled now at the memory and snuggled into Steven's chest. The expression on his face when "I Saw It In the Mirror" spun on her record player was precious—even though she'd felt insulted at the time. His mouth had dropped open, his eyes glazed over, and his head looked like it was about to fall off.

"Does the song get any faster?" he said after the first five seconds.

"Shush! Listen to the lyrics. They've always reminded me of you."

"No, they don't." He grabbed two of Jackie's flower pillows and covered his ears with them.

She pried the pillows off him. "I read every page of that awful book, Steven. Now you listen!"

" _I saw it in the mirror; my head is hanging low,_ " Björn Ulvaeus sang, " _a_ _nd I ain't too familiar with the_ _feelings that I show._ "

Steven groaned and went again for the pillows, but Jackie kept them out of his reach. She spoke along with lyrics, emphasizing each word and peppering his name throughout. "I know you say you love me, _Steven,_ but I'm seeing through your lies. It doesn't really bother you, _Steven,_ if this boy cries."

"How the hell does that song remind you of me?" he said.

She shrugged. "Just a feeling I get."

"Jackie," he slid his palms over her cheeks, and his fingers lay gently against her ears—the way she adored, "you are one freaky, freaky chick, you know that?"

"And you like it."

"Maybe I do..." He leaned in for a kiss.

That moment had happened in the safety of Point Place, but her mind brought the joy of it to the Nine Kingdoms. Steven's hand was still on her back, and her giggles had become full-blown laughter. Her lips found his neck, and she laughed into it. If— _when—_ they finally broke this curse, he'd probably give her anything she wanted, like playing ABBA in his store twenty-four seven.

_Oh, he was so going to pay for her sacrifice._ Her lips inched up to his favorite spot to be kissed, just beneath his jaw. _But not too badly. He was taking care of her after all. Maybe just one hour a day when he played her kind of music..._ She spared nothing in her kiss, using the full skill of her mouth and tongue on his pulse point. At first, he didn't react. Then his hand moved on her back and finally gripped her with a measure of strength.

* * *

The pain in Hyde's body sharply declined, and the relief from it made him gasp. Jackie was laughing silently, and she was kissing him. He had no clue what set her off or why it had this effect on him. But he grew so relaxed he couldn't kiss her back, and sleep took him before he could speak his last thought...

_Thank you._


	44. Dull Is the Armor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 44  
 **DULL IS THE ARMOR**  


The sun rose too soon and bathed the gingerbread safehouse in orange light. Hadn't Eric just fallen asleep with Donna in his arms? Sure felt like it. Everyone had kept quiet last night out of respect for Hyde, but Eric needed to talk to Donna—about so much that he couldn't make sense of it all. Maybe with the Red Caps protecting their passage to Gingerbread Town, he'd get a chance to sort his thoughts and tell her before someone else tried to kill them.

Three Red Caps entered the cottage. Their eyes were bright and alert, and their steps were sprightly despite having spent the night in the rain. "Good morning," one of them said, and the other two went to Hyde's bed.

"Hey, girls," Kelso said and waved at them. He was sitting at the table and and munching on one of the pretzel stools. Strange that he was the first to rise, but with the knot of limbs in the bed next to him—Fez and Rhonda's—he probably didn't feel comfortable staying put.

Eric, however, would've loved to sleep another couple of days, but Donna was up and yawning beside him. Her hair appeared a bit of a mess, but he always found her "morning" look endearing. He focused on that while forcing himself out bed and stretching. Then he ripped off a piece of their headboard and offered it to her. "Breakfast, m'lady?"

"Thanks." She took the chunk of gingerbread absently. Her attention seemed elsewhere—on Hyde. She rose from the bed and went to the Red Caps tending him. Then she spoke in a low, soft tone. She probably didn't want anyone to hear her, and before Eric's wolfish traits had kicked in, he wouldn't had a prayer. Now, though, her words reached him clearly.

He watched as she festooned Hyde with concern, but Hyde said he was fine—even though he'd mentioned being in pain yesterday... more than once... which was completely unlike him. Eric banged the back of his head on the gingerbread wall. What the hell was wrong with him? She wasn't being overly-concerned. He was being _under-_ concerned, and he rushed to Hyde's bedside.

"Hyde, are—" Eric cut himself off. Hyde seemed to be in a great mood. He was pulling on his boots and even smiling. The only outward sign he'd been torn apart just a few hours ago were the scabby blotches along his arms, the red stitches on his fingers and jawline.

"Morning, Forman," he said and cupped one of Jackie's knees. She was already eating beside him, and he tore a fistful of gingerbread from the wall for himself. "What's up?"

_Too much,_ Eric wanted to say, but he stuffed his hands into his pockets and fumbled with the five need seeds remaining to him. "How... um, how are you?"

Hyde took a bite of gingerbread, "Peachy," and pointed to Donna, "but your wife thinks I'm faking."

"I didn't say that," Donna said. She looked to the Red Caps as if they would back her up. "All I said was you should take it easy."

Hyde stood up while Jackie stayed seated, and he clasped her shoulder, but it seemed like he was leaning on her. "I'll take it easy once we're out of this damn forest."

"No, Donna's right," Eric said. "You went through some really tough stuff, man. We're here for you if you need anything."

"Yeah..." Hyde ran a hand over his face and sighed. "Yeah, I know." The bite wounds on his wrists did look better. "But there's only so much of this 'we-care-about-you' crap I can take, so let's get the hell out of here, all right?"

"Sure..." Eric grinned and tilted his head, "and I love you."

"Get bent, Forman." Hyde pulled Jackie to her feet. He led her across the cottage toward the door, but their passage didn't go unnoticed. Kelso, Rhonda, and Fez were all at the table now and in Hyde's path.

"I love you, too, Hyde!" Kelso shouted.

Hyde brought Jackie past him. "Shut up!

"Oh, yes, me, too!" Fez said and made kissing noises.

"Man," Hyde turned to the Red Caps behind him, "you shoulda let me croak." Then he was out the door with Jackie.

Kelso laughed. "Sweet love-burn, guys!"

* * *

The forest smelled like leaves and grass from the night's rain, and the ground was muddy. Getting to Gingerbread Town would take only a few more hours, the Red Caps said, and they formed their protective ring around Eric, Donna and their friends.

"So, how's my tiger lily?" Eric said, partly as a test of his new pet name for Donna. She didn't wrinkle her nose in disgust or tell him to knock it off, so she must have liked it.

"Short answer: I'm fine."

"And the long answer?" He tried to pull her into a private walking-huddle, but Rhonda sneaked up on them from behind.

"Donna—oh, gosh..." Rhonda snorted with what sounded like embarrassment, "can I talk to you? Woman-to-woman?"

"Um... okay." Donna pecked Eric on the lips then mouthed, "I'm sorry," before Rhonda dragged her off to their own, private walking-huddle.

He could've easily eavesdropped on the conversation, but another voice drew his attention. Kelso was speaking to Fez, a little too loudly: "I can't believe you didn't nail Rhonda last night."

Fez probably didn't want that news spread around, but maybe Kelso was actually talking in his normal decibel level. He and Fez were only two yards ahead of Eric, and Eric had trouble distinguishing the true volume of sounds now. He also couldn't tell what that volume meant about his distance from the sound itself. Measuring distance by sight was much easier for him, but being a wolf didn't come with a handbook.

"Oh, I wanted to my friend," Fez said. "I was in a house of candy, sleeping next to the woman of my dreams. It would have been glorious... but I could not do that to Hyde. We would have been loud."

Kelso patted Fez on the back. "You'll get her the next time, buddy."

Eric chuckled quietly. Whatever jealousy Kelso felt toward Rhonda, nothing could keep him from rooting for Fez to have sex—even if it was with her. But the image didn't do Eric any favors, so he thrust it from his mind as huffing noises swept through the air. He glanced to the right and spotted Jackie. Her wet eyes were shining in the morning sunlight.

She seemed unhappy with the texture of the muddy ground. She'd maneuvered herself behind Hyde and reached up to his shoulders. He bent down so she could wrap herself around his back—to be carried piggyback-style. But when he tried to straighten up, his face contorted in pain.

"Hold on..." He lowered her to the ground again. She walked on her tiptoes while her hands flailed. She looked like she'd touched a spider.

More huffing noises issued from her, and Hyde scooped her into his arms. He managed a few steps before his arms gave out and dropped her into the mud.

"I... can't do it," he said, out of breath. He tried to pull Jackie out of the mud, and his eyes fogged over with a mixture of fear and helplessness.

Eric rushed over and lifted Jackie from the mud. He grasped her hand so she'd know it was him. Then he crouched and guided her to his back. "Your carriage awaits."

"Forman?" Hyde said. "What the hell are—"

But Jackie slipped her arms around Eric's shoulders and hopped onto his back. He supported her legs around his hips and moved forward.

"Huh." Hyde stared at them a moment. "Well, whaddya know?"

"Yeah," Eric said. "We kind of have a thing now."

Hyde quirked up an eyebrow. "Really."

"Yup." Eric was smiling in spite of himself. He liked that Jackie trusted him, felt like he'd earned some special badge of honor.

"So..." Hyde stroked Jackie's arm with his stitched-up fingers, "what happened?"

He must have meant in the wolf village, in Grayhead's brick house, and Eric told him everything up to when Hyde's limp, chewed-up body was brought in.

"Grayhead is bad news, man," Eric said, and he shifted Jackie's weight so it rested higher on his hips. "He gonna keep coming after you two until he gets the ring... The Red Caps should've killed him."

"Won't hear an argument from me," Hyde said.

"I can't belie—" Eric's voice hitched. He'd never forget the wolves' hunger for Hyde's blood... or how they'd slaughtered all those people in the Naked Emperor's palace. "I can't believe I'm one of them."

"You're not." Hyde captured Eric's gaze and kept it. "Where it counts, man, you're not. You think I'd let you touch Jackie, let alone carry her, if you were?" He brushed some of Jackie's orange hair from her face. "Thanks, by the way."

Eric shook his head. "I didn't really do anything. Okay, I _did_ ask about the ring, but Grayhead gave the information without blinking. He kind of, uh... liked me, I think. Wolf Brotherhood or something."

"No, man," Hyde peered around, as if to make sure no one else was in earshot, "thanks for Jackie, now... and _yesterday._ "

Eric shifted Jackie's weight higher on his hips again. "Oh."

A few minutes later, they entered a denser part of the forest, thick with trees. The ground was drier here, and Hyde gestured for Eric to put Jackie down. Eric did.

"Look, Forman," Hyde said and took Jackie's hand, "I don't know shit about you bein' a wolf..." he slid his palm over Eric's cheek and gave it a light slap, something he used to do when they were kids, "but you're definitely a man."

He dropped back with Jackie just as Donna returned to Eric's side. Eric slipped his arm around her waist.

"You okay?" she said. "You and Hyde seemed to be hav—"

He kissed her until they were both breathless. "Let's... Let's leave it at that for now, okay?" he said.

A smile crept at the corners of her lips. "Okay."

He kept her close as they moved through the forest. Once they were in the safety of Gingerbread Town, he'd tell her everything, even if it meant opening the door to things he'd rather keep locked away. He couldn't afford to shut her out anymore.

He no longer wanted to.

* * *

The scent of baked bread and apple pie drifted in the forest air. They were close to Gingerbread Town, and Fez's stomach grew needy with anticipation—and tense with fear. The Council of the Nine Kingdoms would take place tomorrow. He had the Candy and Pie Expo to oversee, a curse to break, his true love to have sex with...

Yes, Rhonda was certainly his true love. Finding her here had made his heart expand like caramel-coated popcorn. And the way her big, strong hand now held his smaller one made other things expand, too. He'd never had sex with someone he loved before, and the prospect both excited and scared him.

"Coco Puff, look!" she said and pointed up.

Candy canes towered above them like giant oaks. Red Riding Hood Forest had thinned abruptly, giving way to the red-and-white crooks. Colorful gumdrops grew on leafy bushes, and swirly lollipops sprouted from the earth.

"I wish Jackie could see this," Donna said.

"Wow..." One of the youngest Red Caps plucked a tiny candy cane from the dirt.

An older Red Cap grabbed it from her. "Cerise!"

"It's okay," Fez said and returned the candy cane to Cerise. "Candy exists to be eaten."

The sweet smell of baked goods grew thicker as they walked on, and they soon reached the walls of Gingerbread Town. Female soldiers dressed in candy-striped uniforms guarded the gates. They couldn't have been older than eighteen, and they stiffened when they spotted Fez's party of Red Caps.

Kelso strode ahead of everyone, and he addressed the soldiers with his deep Captain-of-the-Guard voice. "I am Sir Kelso the Valiant. King Fez has come!" He laughed and glanced behind him at Fez. "I love saying that."

The soldiers bowed deeply. "King Fez," they said, "we have long awaited your arrival."

"Yes, so have I," Fez said. He turned to the Red Caps. "Thank you all for your service. I will write to Queen Riding Hood and tell her of your bravery and strength."

"Your Majesty," a Red Cap said, "we are honored to serve you. On behalf of Queen Riding Hood, however, we have a request." Fez nodded, and she continued. "We would ask your permission to patrol the southern half of the Second Kingdom. With wolf activity increasing, and with Queen Gretel's murder—"

Fez put up his hand. "I cannot allow that at this time."

"But King Fez—"

"I said, 'No patrol!' You must return to the northern half of the kingdom immediately."

"Fez, um... maybe you should reconsider," Eric said. He jutted his chin at an area several feet away, where Hyde stood with Jackie. Hyde was resting his forehead on Jackie's shoulder.

"I understand, Eric," Fez said, "but we will be safe within the walls of Gingerbread Town."

At that, Hyde straightened up. "Yeah, man, that's what you said about the Naked Emperor's kingdom, and a pack of wolves ambushed us in his own freakin' palace."

"Guys, if Fez says they can't do it," Donna said, "then he must have a good reason for it."

Fez smiled at her. "Thank you, Donna."

He thought that would end the discussion, but Hyde stepped up to him with Jackie on his arm and kept his voice low. "If those wolves get anywhere near us, man, we're dead."

"But they won't get near you..." Fez clapped Hyde's shoulder, and Hyde flinched, "because I am assigning the best guard in my kingdom to watch over you. Kelso," he gestured for Kelso to come close, "your duty is to protect Hyde and Jackie now."

"Oh, yeah!" Kelso said cheerfully.

But Hyde scowled. "No way. I don't want Sir Brainless guarding us."

Kelso's eyes widened as if he were insulted. "Hey, who kept you from getting burned at the stake in Little Lamb Village, huh? Who kicked all that Troll-butt during Fez's coronation? Who saved Donna from that wolf in Fez's ballroom?"

"You ever face down a pack of wolves by yourself?" Hyde said.

"No."

"Right." Hyde turned back to Fez. "No one's getting fuckin' killed on my behalf, okay? So just let these chicks do what they've been trained to do."

"Kelso understands his duty," Fez said. "You and Jackie are our friends, and I gave you the ring that cursed you. It's my obligation to see that the curse is broken and to protect you while doing so."

" _Fez,_ " the force of Hyde's voice made Fez step back, "I said _no._ "

Donna touched Hyde's arm but withdrew at his wince. "Hyde," she said, "he's trying to help you."

"I don't need any damn help. I just need this damn ring to come off Jackie's fing—"

"He is _King,_ " Rhonda said sternly, "and he has spoken." Hyde opened his mouth to reply, but Rhonda repeated, "He has spoken!" which shut him up.

"Thank you, my sweet." Fez kissed Rhonda on her beautiful plump cheek. Then he picked a gumdrop off a nearby bush and tossed it into his mouth. "Now take the oath, Kelso."

Kelso stood in front of Hyde and Jackie. He took out his dagger and placed the flat of the blade over his heart. "I swear on my loyalty to Kingdom and King—and on our friendship—that I, Sir Kelso, will guard your lives with mine, and... _burn!_ You have to be protected by me."

"Fine," Hyde said through gritted teeth. "But unless you find a way to guard us so I don't gotta see your ass all the time, I'm gonna kick it."

"But who's gonna guard _you?_ " Eric said to Fez, and Fez glanced at Rhonda. "Oh..."

Fez bowed to the Red Caps. "Thank you once more for all you've done for us, but I must say, 'Good day.'"

"We understand," a Red Cap said. She pulled a swatch of scarlet cloth from her cloak with a needle stuck in it. A scarlet thread was strung through the eye. "If you need us," she handed the cloth and needle to him, "you know how to call us."

The Red Caps departed, and Gingerbread Town's guards let Fez and his friends through the gates. A path stretched out before them, glittering like wet pebbles in the sunlight, but Fez's attention roamed higher. Queen Gretel's castle overlooked the town on a high promontory. That was their destination, but Hyde's wounds still seemed to cause him great pain, and Fez hoped he could make the journey.

* * *

Pastel-colored cottages, each with pies cooling in the windows, lined the gingerbread-paved streets. The town smelled like Mrs. Forman's kitchen when she was baking cookies, and Hyde inhaled the smell deep into his nose. His body felt better than it had yesterday—but much worse than last night when Jackie was laughing.

She was smiling now with her eyes closed. Looked like her sense of smell was fully engaged. He ran a finger down the bridge of her nose, and she nodded. Only three senses were left to her, smell being one. Seemed she was putting them to good use, but how long until the curse stole smell, taste, and touch from her, too?

Hyde and Jackie walked toward the town square with their friends, and different scents took dominance: roast chicken and spiced lamb, blueberry pie and chocolate. He could practically taste them on his tongue, and he enjoyed the sensation. It distracted from the pain raking his nerves—and sparked a little insight. Back in Point Place, Jackie had asked him a question he didn't know how to answer. He had the answer now... and hoped like hell she'd get the chance to hear it someday.

In the town square, people darted among rows of restaurants, bakeries, and candy shops. The citizenry appeared to be mostly old women and young girls, but people from other kingdoms had already arrived—including Elves and some Trolls. No blood-stained Elf entrails littered the streets yet, probably due to the swarm of Second Kingdom soldiers in the Square. The town was swollen with guards, but Hyde had no problem with that today.

Forman, Donna, and Rhonda gawked at different shops, but Hyde searched the storefronts for something he could use. Banners were draped across them, some proclaiming "The Best Pies in the Nine Kingdoms!" Others asked for support in the Candy and Pie Expo, and tables were already set up in front of the shops. Even without Fez, the people had taken it upon themselves to make sure the event would take place. Hyde admired that.

"Fez, hold on, buddy," Kelso said. He was following closely behind Hyde and Jackie. "Let's stop in there." He pointed to a shop, Hansel's Herbs and Spices.

"What for?" Forman said.

"What do you think?" Kelso whipped back his arm and mimed throwing something. "Wolfsbane."

The shop was small, but all seven of them crammed into it. Jars of different powders stuffed the shelves. Dried sprigs of herbs hung from the ceiling. Spice overwhelmed Hyde's nostrils, and Jackie began to cough. She pinched her nose, and he breathed into his sleeve.

They weren't the only ones affected. Donna, Fez, and Kelso coughed while Forman's face grew red and his eyes teared. Rhonda was the only one who seemed fine. Maybe she wasn't half-Giant but half-Troll, with a cast-iron sense of smell.

"Why, scoop out my eyes, it's King Fez!" The shopkeeper bowed her gray-bunned head. She was a plump old woman, and the counter she stood behind didn't hide her girth. "You honor us with your presence, Your Majesty." She passed out nuggets of candy from a glass bowl. "Swallow these. You'll breathe more easily."

Hyde swallowed down the nugget whole, and the woman wasn't lying. Spice cleared from his throat and lungs, and he had no trouble breathing. The candy must have coated his insides, but Jackie seemed to have no clue what to do with hers. She'd dropped her nugget on the floor. He picked it up and tapped her lips with it. She shoved it away.

Only one thing was left for him to do. He popped the nugget into mouth and coaxed open her lips with a kiss. His tongue delivered the sugary package; his fingers stroked the hollow of her neck. She got the idea, and he withdrew from her before she started chewing.

"Better, right?" he said and rubbed her back. She had no way of hearing him, but she sucked in a lungful of air and nodded.

Their friends seemed to be faring better, too, and Fez hit the counter with his palm. "I have needs."

The shopkeeper bowed her head again. "What can I do for you today, Your Majesty?"

"We require Wolfsbane."

"Ah, yes." A silver chain she wore disappeared into her cleavage. She adjusted her blouse to hide the chain further. "There have been many rumors lately."

"Like what?" Forman said.

"Rumors," the shopkeeper whispered, "such as the wolf packs are uniting over Gretel's murder. They could overrun the whole kingdom—"

"I will not allow that to happen," Fez said.

"Which is why I'm delighted you've finally arrived, Your Majesty."

She ducked down behind the counter, rattled around, and came back up with her arms full of supplies—leather gloves and pouches, jars of blue pellets. The pellets were of varying shades, and she dropped the jars containing them onto the counter.

"Are those all Wolfsbane?" Donna said.

"Yes." The shopkeeper pointed to a jar of denim-blue pellets, the Wolfsbane color Hyde was used to seeing. "These are normal strength, causing paralysis. And these," she lifted a jar of deep indigo pellets, "cause death."

Forman shoved himself away from the counter, and Fez said, "Those are illegal in Gretel's half of the kingdom."

"I understand that," the shopkeeper said and clutched the jar to her sizable chest. "I also understand that wolves are brutal things, caring nothing for man or beast. They eat the elderly and rape our granddaughters. I've even heard tales of them eating their own young."

Hyde didn't doubt any of it, considering what the wolves had done to him, but Donna said, "Some, maybe. But so do humans. So do Trolls... and Elves, too, I bet. And I'm married to—"

Fez clamped a hand over Donna's mouth. "We will take fourteen pouches of regular Wolfsbane, please."

"Yeah, and I'll take one of the death-kind," Hyde said.

"Hyde!" Donna freed herself from Fez and struck Hyde's arm. The pain of her strike buckled his legs, but he used the counter to remain standing.

"Yeah... I'll take one of the death-kind," he repeated, and Donna glared at him. "Don't get your panties twisted. I won't let any of it near Forman."

"That's right. You won't." She squeezed Hyde's earlobe between her thumb and forefinger—same as Jackie would have—and he cursed Donna's observant nature. She must have caught Jackie doing that to him before.

Usually, a pinch was an annoyance, but his inflamed nerves multiplied it to agony. Donna couldn't have known that, probably figured it was a safe way to make a point. Her fingers weren't even pinching too hard, but he forced himself not to groan. His breaths shuddered out of him, and his hands gripped the counter as secretly as they could. Didn't want her—or any of them—to realize how fucking vulnerable he still was.

"What would _Jackie_ say, 'Steven'?" Donna said.

"Donna, let him go," Forman said. He was at the back of the shop. "It's okay."

Her grip tightened on Hyde's earlobe. "No, Eric. No one's getting anything that could kill you."

Hyde couldn't hear or see anything after that. The pain whited out his consciousness until Donna's fingers were gone from his earlobe. Maybe a groan had escaped him, prompting her to let him go. Or Forman's super-charged senses had picked up on his distress, and he'd made Donna release his ear. Regardless, Hyde was shaking, sweating, and clinging to Jackie like a rope over a cliff.

"Oh, God... Hyde, I'm sorry!" Donna said.

"F—forget it." Hyde allowed himself a few deep breaths, a few seconds of minor relief. "Jackie would tell me one pouch of wolf-death isn't enough." But his shoulders slumped. Out of respect for Donna—and to repay his debt to Forman—he relented. "I guess paralyzing the bastards is good enough."

The shopkeeper prepared fourteen pouches of Wolfsbane and gave them seven pairs of leather gloves to go with them. "You don't want the stuff to touch your skin."

"Believe us, we know," Forman said. He'd rejoined everyone at the counter, but he and Donna bolted from the shop when Fez got the bill.

Money from Fez's personal account, apparently, would be transferred to Hansel's Herbs and Spices, but Fez held the signed bill away from the shopkeeper. "You must dispose of the deadly Wolfsbane."

"Of course," she said with a voice that meant, "No way in hell," and Hyde smirked. _Good for her._ Fez might've been a trustworthy friend, but he was also the government, _The Man,_ and Hyde had never met a government he liked.

Fez gave the shopkeeper the bill. Then he offered his arm to Rhonda, and they left the shop together. Hyde, though, stayed at the counter with Jackie. Kelso stuck around, too, and Hyde didn't mind. Having someone to watch his back eased his mind somewhat, and he needed Kelso to do him a favor, anyway.

"Kelso, you got an account like Fez's, right?"

Kelso scoffed. "No. He has way more money than I do."

"But you've got enough dough to keep you from starving."

" _Pfft._ I've got enough dough to buy a small castle. Fez pays me a ridiculous amount of money."

"All I needed to hear, man." Hyde turned to the shopkeeper. "Hey, do you have any wolf whistles?"

"I do, indeed..." From her cleavage, she pulled out her silver chain. A cylindrical whistle dangled at the end of it. "This one."

"So you ain't sellin' them?"

"I wish. They're dreadfully expensive, made from pure silver. The Civil War destroyed our economy. Not even Red Caps carry them, as far as common knowledge goes." She replaced the whistle within her cleavage. "But there _are_ unscrupulous types around here who sell ineffective whistles made from lesser metals. You'll know the difference because they're twice as heavy as the real thing."

Hyde tightened his grip on Jackie's hand. "Then how about moss that stops bleeding? And where can I buy a knife?"

"Curdling moss." The shopkeeper pointed to a shelf against the wall. Hyde went to it with Jackie and tapped a jar stuffed with blue-black moss. "Yes, that's the one," the shopkeeper said. "And you can get a knife from the butcher across the Square."

"Thanks." He handed the jar of curdling moss to Kelso. "Oh, and do you have anything that's like _Dwarf_ moss only less, uh... potent?"

"Yeah," Kelso said. "Great idea!"

The shopkeeper grinned. "Elf blossom. Would you like rolling leaves, too?"

Hyde grinned back. "Hell, yeah. And matches."

She wrote up the bill once his leather baggie was squared away. He passed the bill off to Kelso, who signed it without complaint. That wasn't like him at all. Kelso hated spending his own money, but he'd changed a lot in eight months, and maybe seeing Hyde carved up like a Thanksgiving turkey had done something to him, too.

Outside the shop, Fez was distributing the Wolfsbane pouches. "Two for each of you," he said and gave four pouches to Hyde. "Half of those are for Jackie. Let her feel what's inside them."

Hyde put a pouch on Jackie's palm and closed her fingers around it. Her brow furrowed. Then she mouthed, "Wolfsbane?"

He kissed her forehead as a yes.

She managed to get the pouch into her pants pocket. He put the second pouch in the pocket opposite and made sure she knew it was there.

"Fez," he said afterward, "I need to see the butcher."

"We are only a twenty-minute walk from Gretel's castle. A huge feast will be prepared—"

"No, man, I gotta get a knife and—" Hyde sucked in a sharp breath. Jackie was rubbing her cheek against the back of his hand. The friction felt like fire on his skin. "Yeah," he said and refused to shake her off, "any place I can pick up what passes for rubbers around here? Some of those lambskin deals?"

"Ah." Fez nodded. "We all have needs, my friend. Yes, let us go to the butcher. He should have what you're looking for."

"Cool."

Fez led the way across the Square. The butcher's shop was sizable and cold, and the butcher herself was in the middle of a demonstration, showing an apprentice how to carve up a live chicken.

"You want to cut through the neck with a swift chop," the butcher said and brought down her cleaver.

The chicken's head fell onto the cutting board, and its body twitched on the table. The apprentice pressed the body down and kept it from flying off.

"Looks like Forman when he's pissed," Hyde said.

"A zombie chicken—awesome!" Kelso said. "Can I behead one? I wanna make it all flappy."

The butcher merely smiled and wiped her hands on her apron. Then she spotted Fez, "Oh, your Majesty!" and bowed her head. "How can I serve you today? We've got some fine venison, just in time for the Expo."

"Thank you, but we are not here for food right now," Fez said and explained what they needed.

The butcher gave Hyde his knife, a holster to carry it in, and a load of lambskin condoms protected between thin plates of copper. She also sold knapsacks, and Hyde took one to carry all his stuff, like the jar of curdling moss—only he couldn't manage any pressure on his shoulders.

Kelso solved that problem and carried the knapsack for him. Then a grin surfaced on his face Hyde didn't like.

"What?" Hyde said

"I LOVE YOU!"

Kelso made the same kissing noises Fez had earlier, and Hyde grasped Kelso's lips. "No one loves _anyone,_ " Hyde said, and pain threaded into his fingers, "got it?"

Holding Kelso's lips put stress on Hyde's too-injured nerves, but he didn't let go until Kelso said, "Goddit."

Back in the Square, Hyde fastened the knife holster around his hips. That was a weight he could deal with, but Kelso's loyalty—the weight of it, what it might lead to—Hyde wasn't sure he could bear his friend's death.

They began for Gretel's castle again, and Kelso said, "What do you want the knife for?"

Hyde swept his thumb over Jackie's left palm. "Insurance."


	45. Hesitation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 45  
 **HESITATION**

Fez received a hero's welcome when they arrived at Gretel's castle. The royal-blue carpet was rolled out for him. Royal trumpeters played him into the great hall, which was carved from crystal sugar, and the Lord Chancellor greeted him with a low bow. Fez had known this woman since he was a child. She was over a hundred-years-old but not frail by any means. Her cheeks were plump and rosy, and her dark gray hair was braided and clasped tightly at the nape of her neck.

"Oh, Miss Muffet," Fez took her hand and kissed the back of it, "it has been too long."

"My, yes. Hasn't it?" She smiled at him, still a beautiful smile, and her thick hands rubbed the material of his shirt collar. "This will never do." She snapped her fingers at three attendants. "Bring proper attire to all rooms in the royal wing— _immediately._ "

"My friends," Fez said, "this is Miss Muffet, Lord Chancellor of Gretel's kingdom." Then he presented his friends with a flourish, "Miss Muffet, these are my friends," and beckoned Kelso to step forward. "Sir Kelso the Valiant, my best friend and Captain of the Guard."

Miss Muffet bowed to him. "You matter quite a lot to people, Sir Kelso," she said. "Some of whom might surprise you."

"Cool. I like surprises," Kelso said, "unless they're painful. Then they suck... unless they're painful to other people. Then they're cool again. Great name, by the way."

"Thank you, and if you call me 'Miss Muff,' there _will_ be consequences."

"Man, you know that word here, too?" Kelso crossed his arms and pouted. "I hate lost burn opportunities."

Fez introduced Jackie and Hyde next, and Miss Muffet frowned. "You poor children. To be afflicted with such a burden... Whoever cursed you has paid a dear price to do so."

Hyde glanced sideways at Fez. "How'd she know all that?"

"The Lord Chancellor has always been insightful," Fez said.

Miss Muffet looked Hyde over. "My boy, with wounds like that, you shouldn't be standing." She clapped her hands once, and the sound reverberated in the great hall. "A soft chair! _Now."_

Two attendants carried a thick-cushioned chair and placed it behind Hyde. He sat down and pulled Jackie onto his lap.

"My good friends Eric Forman and Donna," Fez said.

"Eric Forman? My goodness!" Miss Muffet took Eric's hand. "What you did for the Nine Kingdoms... well, it's beyond words."

Eric looked down at the flagstone floor, which was made from peanut brittle. He seemed embarrassed by the praise.

"Being courageous doesn't mean being invulnerable," Miss Muffet said. She could likely read the cause of Eric's discomfort; Fez wouldn't have put it past her. "I have debated with the best minds across the Kingdoms," she continued, "fought off Ogres, and swum across the Lake of Ice, but spiders still do me in."

Eric's head perked up. "Really?"

"Oh, yes. My beloved, Blue, used to take care of them for me, and I always made sure he got a restful night's sleep. He suffered horrible insomnia before he met me." She was still holding Eric's hand and clasped Donna's as well. "Our strengths balanced out each other's weaknesses."

"What do you do about spiders now?" Eric said.

Miss Muffet pulled a gleaming, silver whip from the folds of her dress. "My attercop scourge keeps them at bay."

"Donna," Eric grasped Donna's shoulders, "Donna, I have to get one of those."

"And this," Fez was standing on his tiptoes, and he kissed Rhonda's forehead, "is my Mashed Potato. My Rhonda."

"My darling girl!" Miss Muffet cupped Rhonda's face gently. "You _are_ the one, aren't you? You are Fez's beloved!"

"Gosh, I sure hope so!" Rhonda said, and glanced back at Donna. Donna nodded at her.

Miss Muffet clapped her hands together again. "Now that we've all been properly introduced, I believe a good meal is in order. It's almost noon. Why don't you take a short rest, and I'll have the attendants call you for lunch?"

"Sounds good to me," Eric said.

"Cornelia, Heddy, show His Majesty's friends to their rooms."

A pair of women, one young with red hair and one much older, led everyone toward the grand staircase. Kelso stayed close behind Hyde and Jackie, maybe too close, because Hyde turned around and shoved him an arm's-length away.

Fez, though, remained behind with Miss Muffet as his friends climbed the sugar stairs. He waited until they—and _Eric,_ he hoped—were out of earshot and spoke in a low whisper: "How much do you trust the staff of this castle?"

"Implicitly," Miss Muffet said. "Why?"

"We were attacked by wolves in the Fifth Kingdom."

Her eyes widened. "My sweet Gretel's murder has consequences that stretch far beyond us. We must learn who killed her."

"Yes. And not only for the people of the Nine Kingdoms..." He gazed up the staircase, at the shrinking backs of his friends. "I have been so irresponsible, Miss Muffet. A bad king, a bad friend. I do not deserve my crown—or to eat candy ever again."

"Now you listen to me," she said, and her face grew stern, "the Kingdoms don't need your guilt. Neither do your friends. What they need is your wisdom. Yes, you have keen insight, too—don't try to deny it." She rubbed his arm tenderly, but her voice retained its urgency. "But you've always been one to get distracted, to need immediate gratification—instead of valuing things earned through hard work, patience, and faith. That _is_ how you lost Rhonda originally, isn't it?"

Fez's heart fluttered. _Damn this woman._ "But how will I know I can be a good king and still be..." his throat went dry, and his voice hitched, "still be happy?"

She laughed, and it softened her voice. "You won't know until you get there, my dear boy. None of us can _know_ what our destinies hold. We can only _act._ Did your grandfather know he would find Snow White in that glass coffin?"

"No," Fez said.

"Did he know she would wake if he kissed her?"

"No."

"Did he kiss her anyway?"

"Yes, damn it! Ai..." Fez ran a hand over his mouth. "Miss Muffet, having faith does not come easily to me."

Miss Muffet said nothing, but she smiled kindly and opened her arms. He embraced her, as he used to when he was a young child. Her body was warm and smelled like fresh bread. And she was the only woman he could hug without getting needs.

"You have important choices to make tomorrow," she said.

"Yes." He parted from her and brushed a hand through his hair. "I also have suspicions about Gretel's murderer, but they will not be kind to Eric. He has already suffered so much because of me."

"Sadly, true friendship can lead to sacrifice." Miss Muffet gestured to her attendants. "Tuffets!" Immediately, two overstuffed cushions were placed beneath her and Fez's butts. "This is a delicate time for him. He's growing much—and we're usually at our most vulnerable when growing. But if you show trust in him, perhaps that will help him have trust in himself."

Fez went silent. He did have to show Eric trust, and he knew exactly how to do it. "It's good you've increased security for the Candy and Pie Expo," he said after a moment. "Trolls will be allowed to participate this year, and I want no Troll-on-Elf violence."

"Well," Miss Muffet laughed again, "that would certainly explain the increase of Troll visitors we've been having. I had to pull in soldiers from Moonlight City and Bread Crumb Village... I do not envy you your position as judge. Have you selected the other judges yet?"

"I have some candidates. They have either arrived in Gingerbread Town already or will arrive shortly. I shall present them at the Council of the Nine. We need people with strong stomachs." He grew silent once more. Jackie would not be able to taste soon. And then she would refuse to eat and starve...

"What is it, Your Highness?" Miss Muffet said.

"Oh, Miss Muffet," Fez's voice bubbled into a sob, "my friends will die because of the ring I gave them."

She sighed. "Curses do tend to kill people, but curses can be broken."

"Yes, but I don't know who cursed the ring, _how_ they cursed it, or... why Jackie? Why Hyde? Who would want to destroy them? And why do the wolves want the ring? It is cursed!"

"If I could wear the ring myself," Miss Muffet said, "I could give you some insight."

"That is why it is so complicated. Jackie refuses to take off the ring because the curse's effect will transfer to Hyde." Fez buried his face in his hands. Guilt had hardened over his heart like the candy-coating of an M&M. "They are going to die."

"Perhaps not..." Miss Muffet caressed the back of his hair like she used to do—and just as his mother had done in his youth. "True love never dies."

* * *

Kelso followed Hyde and Jackie across the royal wing to their room, but Hyde stopped him at the door.  
"Just give me my stuff," Hyde said.

"But I took an oath!" Kelso said.

"Guard the damn door if you want."

Kelso shrugged off Hyde's knapsack. Protecting him and Jackie shouldn't have been this tough. "But what if a wolf climbs up the side of the castle and jum—"

Hyde snatched the knapsack and slammed the door in his face.

"Fine!" Kelso shouted. "But if you and Jackie do it, I'll still be able to hear!"

He leaned back against the wall. The hallway was lit with candles in colorful, dyed-sugar sconces. A thick carpet spun of cotton candy ran beneath his feet. The place reminded him of the circus, which was cool for a little while, but he wouldn't want to live here.

He stuck a hand into his pocket and palmed the pouch of Wolfsbane. Fighting wolves would be so much easier now. Back in Grayhead's house, Hyde had looked like the half-eaten rat Kelso had found once—in the alleyway behind Fatso Burger. He'd never let Hyde get chewed up like that again.

"Wow!" Big Rhonda burst from a room across the hall. "Kelso, did you see the bowls of candy stocked on the shelves?"

" _No,_ I haven't been in my room yet," Kelso said. Eric and Donna had disappeared into their room minutes ago, but Kelso had his duty, which used to be guarding Fez.

"Hey, don't get snippy at me, cupcake." Rhonda popped a piece of chocolate into her mouth. "Fez knows what he's doing. If he wants you to guard Hyde and Burkhart, it's the right choice."

Kelso scowled. He was happy to be assigned the task of protecting Hyde and Jackie, but he didn't like being replaced. The people he cared about kept doing that to him.

"You better take care of him," he said. "'Cause if anything happens..."

Rhonda pulled her club from her belt and hit her hand with it. "It won't."

* * *

"Donna, listen," Eric said, but she pushed him onto the bed. He appreciated the softness of the comforter. The accommodations in Gretel's castle were almost as nice as that of Cinderella's, and he was still tired from the last few traumatic days. He could've easily fallen asleep, but he tried again to start a discussion. "Donna, I really—" She attacked his neck with kisses. "We have to—" She started to unbutton his shirt. "We have to talk, here!" he said and forced himself up.

"Not now." Her hands slid up his thighs and toward the waistband of his pants. "I just want to get that image out of my head."

"What—" he swallowed, "what image?"

"You know... _Hyde._ "

"Oh." He cradled the sides of her face, and his thumbs caressed her cheeks. "Why don't we talk about it instead?"

"You really want to talk?"

His gaze drifted to her shirt, over the outline of her breasts. "Donna, believe me, I'd _always_ rather have sex. But—and I'm speaking from experience—the images come right back. _Every time._ "

Donna stared at him. No, _past_ him, as if she were staring into her own mind. "It was awful, Eric. I watched the wolf carry him in the woods. I thought Hyde was a slaughtered deer or something. And then..." Her face grew flush. "Then I saw Jackie the same way inside my head and—and _you._ " Tears clotted her lashes, and she blinked them away. "It could have been you, Eric."

She was crying now, and Eric pulled her into his arms. "But it wasn't," he said.

"But it _could've_ been. My God, Eric, Hyde was a freakin' corpse on the ground. I thought he was gone."

"Yeah, so did I. But he's not, okay? He's fine."

"He's _not_ fine." She withdrew enough so he could see her face. Her eyes were a watery mess, and he just wanted to make her feel better. "He's in pain," she said, "a lot of it. And Jackie... Why did we ever come here?"

"I'm sorry... Donna, I am _so_ sorry—"

"No, don't apologize anymore, okay?" She gave his back a squeeze. "For anything. Just—just tell me what you wanted to say."

He leaned his head back. The ceiling was as white and fluffy as clouds. Had to be cotton candy up there, like the carpet. He returned his attention to Donna, but she was obscured by his own damn tears.

"When we went back through the mirror," he said, "after the first time—when we returned to Point Place—I didn't really come home. I'm still in that ballroom, huddled over Laurie's body, and I don't... I don't know what to do, Donna. She's never gonna have a chance to—to—" his forehead pressed into Donna's shoulder, "to feel _this._ To experience what it's like having someone who loves her, _really_ loves her. I took that away."

"She took it away from herself," Donna whispered by his ear. "When are you gonna get that? She made her own choices, Eric. You _saved_ her. She's okay."

"No." His released Donna from his embrace and eased himself off the bed. A long run outside would've done his knotted thoughts some good, but he'd started this conversation. He had to finish it. "If I'd been more of a man, none of this ever would've happened. I could've gotten through to Laurie before she was in that park, before she let herself be pulled into the mirror!"

A vanity made from gingerbread stood beside the bathroom door. It had an oval mirror, and he drew back his arm and smashed his fist into the glass. The mirror splintered but didn't shatter. Shards of glass didn't lodge in his knuckles—because the mirror was made of sugar.

And it was repairing itself. Each fissure smoothed over as if it had never existed... If only his heart could do the same.

"If I'd been more of a man," he said, "Fez's parents would still be alive. We wouldn't have come here for our honeymoon. Hyde and Jackie wouldn't be screwed with that curse—"

"Eric, you can't do this," Donna said, and her arms slipped around him from behind. She hugged herself into his back. "These things _did_ happen. Maybe they were meant to. I mean, we got back together because of it. Hyde and Jackie did, too. Our story's not done yet."

"Then what's the damn subtext?" He turned and looked her in the eyes. "I have to know... I have to know why Laurie wanted me to come here, what all this wolf-stuff means about my family—what it means about _me._ Donna, I have to see Penny."

"I don't—" Donna's voice was thick with tears, "I don't want to lose you, Eric."

"You've already been losing me..." His hands glided up her back and pulled her into another embrace. "I have to do something to stop it."

* * *

Steven guided Jackie to a soft bed. She sat, and the weight of his hand settled on her knee. They had to be in Gretel's kingdom. The place smelled so good, like the best bakeries her father had ever brought her to. Fez had described the kingdom well before she went deaf, and she was relieved to be here. But the nice smells weren't enough to keep her from lying down. She was incredibly bored. Steven hadn't kissed her much since he'd recovered. Was he in that much pain?

She clutched what had to be a pillow, and she bit down on her tongue to ward off tears. Wearing the ring on her finger was supposed to _keep_ Steven from pain. But, of course, he'd found a way to bring it on himself anyway.

_No,_ that wasn't fair. He must have tried to get some answers from the wolves, and what they'd done to him in return made her glad she was blind. Feeling his nearly lifeless body had traumatized her enough.

She reached for his hand. It had moved from her knee to her thigh, and she grasped his fingers, but then he lay against her back and hugged himself to her. His warm breath puffed against her ear. He was saying something, and she desperately wanted to hear it.

"What are you telling me?" she said into the silence. "What?" No answer came, and she pulled the sheets over her mouth and screamed—and kept on screaming until she had nothing left.

Losing her sight had been awful, but going deaf along with it was so much worse. Her world had shrunk even further. The things about herself she considered important—her beauty and fashion sense and being adored by the public—none of it mattered anymore. All she had now was her own body and Steven's, and without him, she was dead.

His hand slipped over her wrist and pulled her off the bed. Time to go somewhere, apparently. What was she going to lose next? Her sense of smell, the ability to taste? After that, all she'd have left was touch. Once that went, she'd be trapped, completely trapped. Just a mind in space with no connection to anything or anyone. She really would go mad...

Hopefully, she'd starve before then.

They walked forward a few steps—then Steven disappeared. His hand was gone; his shoulder didn't warm her arm. No part of him was touching any part of her, and panic rose in her chest.

"Steven?" She groped for him blindly until his fingers closed around her hand. "You asshole!" she shouted. "Don't do that again!" His lips pressed into her cheek. They were moving as if he were speaking. It felt like...

_I'm sorry._

* * *

The moment after Hyde had shut the door in Kelso's face, he'd brought Jackie to the bed. She curled up on it like a cooked shrimp, and the sight hurt as much the pain scraping his nerves. She wasn't doing well, trapped inside that head of hers. She probably could've used a joint, same as he desperately wanted one, but since that option wasn't available...

He put the knapsack from the butcher on his lap, and he pulled out the pouch of shredded Elf blossom. Rolling it was gonna be impossible with one hand, but taking his hand off Jackie's leg wasn't an option. He could've called Kelso in to do it, but he let the idea go and stuffed the pouch into his pocket. No way of knowing what effect that stuff would have on him, and if the wolves _did_ find them in the castle, a clear head would be an asset. Maybe after some food, he'd go to plan B.

Jackie's fingers found his hand on her leg. Sunlight streamed in through the room's windows, and the blue diamond of her ring glinted at him. Getting engaged, man... _another fucking cosmic joke._ He stared down at the knife holster around his hips. Plan C.

"Jackie," he said and lay down behind her. His arm slipped around her waist and pulled her close. "If I haven't figured out this shit before you lose... whatever it is you're gonna lose next, I'm cutting your finger off."

Jackie grabbed the sheets as if she'd heard him, sucked in a breath, and let it out like a scream.

_I haven't done it yet,_ he wanted to say, but the door to the room creaked open. Adrenaline rushed into his bloodstream, overriding some of the burning pain. He yanked Jackie off the bed and stood in front of her protectively, but it was only Kelso standing in the doorway.

"Lunch time," Kelso said. "Don't know about you, but I am _starving._ "

"Yeah..." Hyde walked only two steps before his legs gave out. He crashed onto the soft carpet and blacked out for a second.

Kelso rushed to his side and helped him up. "Dude, you gotta get some real food. Cookies and milk are great and all, but you're never gonna feel better without, like, a whole cow or something."

Hyde turned and spotted Jackie fumbling blindly for him. He'd let go of her hand in the fall. He took hold of it again, but her eyes were wide with terror.

"You asshole!" _s_ he mouthed. Then she said something he couldn't make out. He'd quit touching her for only a few seconds, but it had freaked the hell out of her.

"Hey," he said into her cheek, "don't worry..."

'Cause he wasn't letting go of her again.

* * *

Eric couldn't believe how delicious the food was here, on par with the Peeps' magical fare in Little Lamb Village. The chef had prepared venison with pork fat and bacon, an incredible combination. The rich smell had cut through his rare lack of appetite, and the bread tasted like no bread he'd ever tasted before—a rough-grained and perfumy puff of dough. He used it to sop up the juice from the venison, which made his eyes roll back in his head from delight.

Everyone was seated at a long table in a lavishly decorated dining room. The designer had fashioned chocolate to resemble wood. It paneled the walls in chestnut brown and gave the chairs a rustic knobby appearance. Amazing that none of it ever melted, but magic must have been mixed into the chocolate.

Donna kept a hand on Eric's knee during the meal, as if she were afraid to let him go. His intention to see Penny didn't have a pleasant effect on her. She was picking at her food when she should have been gobbling it up. He understood, though. His cousin was a troublemaker, and Donna trusted her as much as he did—which was not at all. But he _had_ to see her.

But he also didn't want to think about it right now, so he shifted his attention to the rest of the table. Kelso had his dagger sheathed at his side. He was sitting next to Hyde, who'd cut Jackie's meat for her. She ate with a smile on her face, a nice change from the last few days, but Eric wanted to do something to help them.

"Hey, scruffy," Hyde said and chucked a corn kernel at Eric's face, "quit staring."

Eric touched his chin. He hadn't shaved since they left Cinderella's kingdom, and while his beard didn't feel as thick as Fez's looked, it had to be thicker than Hyde's seven-day growth. _Huh._ Donna was right. Being a wolf _had_ let him sprout a manly amount of facial hair.

"Yup," Kelso scratched his own face, "we could all use a shave."

Hyde pointed at Kelso with his fork. "Man, your beard's as patchy as it was the last time you tried to grow one."

"Yes, that is true," Fez said from the head of the table. Big Rhonda and Miss Muffet were sitting on either side of him. "I dub thee 'Sir Patchy... the Patchy'."

"Hey!" Kelso shouted with a mouth full of food. "I've grown this out a few times, and chicks seem to dig it. Jackie, you thought it was hot, didn't y—" Hyde frogged him, but it was a weak punch. Kelso didn't even yelp. "Right. The whole deaf-thing... This really sucks, you know? I liked the break, but now I miss her bossy voice."

"Yeah..." Hyde ran a finger along the sutures on his jawline, but his face contorted as if it caused him pain. The red thread was supposed to absorb into his skin eventually. "Maybe I'll look like Z.Z. Top by the time we get home."

_Keep the conversation light,_ Eric thought and drank from his glass of apple cider. It was nearly as delicious as that bastard Colin Peep's had been. "I'll shave after lunch."

"Don't," Donna said. "I wanna use it tonight."

Kelso laughed. "Oh, Big D's gonna let Eric touch her big Ds!"

Everybody finished the main course, with attendants refilling glasses and bringing more bread as needed. No one was drinking alcohol, even though wine had been offered. They'd all silently and collectively agreed, it seemed, to keep their minds sharp.

Plates were cleared, and at least a three-dozen different kinds of dessert were brought in—puddings, souffles, fruit sculptures, cakes and pie. Miss Muffet dismissed the attendants, but they seemed confused by the order and didn't leave.

"I will summon you when you are needed again," she said, but the attendants shuffled their feet. She clapped her hands loudly. "I said, 'Dismissed!'" and they scurried from the dining room.

Fez had always said Willy Wonka reminded him of family. Now Eric knew why. Miss Muffet was the original.

"My friends," Fez said, and he dug into a small chocolate cake drizzled with caramel, "now I can tell you why I said, 'Good day,' to the Red Caps. The highest royalty in all the land will arrive here tomorrow for the Council of the Nine. I could not risk the Red Caps seeing them and alerting Queen Riding Hood to their presence."

"Why not?" Donna said. "Penny rules the northern part of the Second Kingdom. Shouldn't she be at the meeting?"

"That requires a complex answer." Fez looked at Eric with sad eyes. "Eric, I would like you to join me tomorrow."

"Me?" Eric hadn't touched any dessert yet, but he grabbed a cream puff and crammed it into his mouth. "Whammee?"

"The content of the meeting will involve your family. It's only right that you be there."

"'Involve' his family?" Hyde said. "How?" His voice had the hint of a threat in it, and though Eric appreciated his protectiveness, he didn't want it.

"Well—" Fez began.

Eric interrupted him. "You mean Penny."

"Yes." Fez passed Kelso a plate full of cookies. "I will also need you there, Sir Patchy."

Kelso's face brightened. "Really?"

"You are my Captain of the Guard."

"But..." rainbow crumbs flew from Kelso's lips, "who'll guard Jackie and Hyde?"

Rhonda waved a pastry in the air. "I'll snap the neck of any wolf who tries to mess with ya, Hyde."

"Thanks, man," Hyde said. He was holding a chocolate-covered strawberry to Jackie's lips, and she took it into her mouth.

"So, Eric... will you join me tomorrow?" Fez said.

Eric slid his fingers over Donna's hand, which hadn't moved from his knee. "Only if Donna can go, too. If it involves my family, it involves her."

Fez nodded, and Donna leaned her head on Eric's shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered.

Eric squeezed her hand. No thanks were necessary.

* * *

Everyone filed out of the dining room to the hallway. Miss Muffet offered to give a tour of the castle and its grounds, but Hyde had only one thing he wanted to do.

"Gotta pass," he said. Jackie was hugging his arm to her chest, and the pressure shot throbbing spikes of pain up his neck and into his skull. "Nap-time."

Kelso groaned. "But I wanna see the castle!"

"Go ahead." Hyde was already bringing Jackie toward the grand staircase. He didn't give a crap what anybody else did right now. It was time for plan B.

"No, I'll guard your stupid door," Kelso said and followed him.

It was a good thing, too, because Hyde's legs felt as insubstantial as soggy paper. Halfway up the stairs, he collapsed.

"Whoa—" Kelso caught him before the stairs slammed into Hyde's face. Hyde would've hauled himself up using the bannister, but having Kelso made things a helluva lot easier. "Burn."

"You gonna say that every time you gotta pick me up?" Hyde said.

"Yup."

Kelso supported him as they climbed, and Hyde glanced at Jackie. He thought he'd understood her frustration before at being dependent on him, but now he got it from the inside-out. He understood something else though, too: having people around who gave a shit didn't suck. After everything they'd done to each other through the years, Kelso was still one of his best buds.

They reached the royal wing without another incident, and Hyde and Jackie made it to their room. But before Kelso could barge his way inside, Hyde shoved his pouch of Elf blossom at him. "Papers are inside, man. Roll some up."

Kelso seemed happy at having an assignment. He peeked inside the pouch. "Where are the matches?"

Hyde merely laughed and locked the door on him.

He led Jackie to the bed and grabbed his knapsack off a pillow. He pulled out a lambskin condom, hoping like hell she was up for it. The Red Caps said sex would cut his pain in half, but causing Jackie pain in order to do it wasn't gonna happen.

"Jackie..." He cupped her face between his hands, and she puckered her lips like she knew what he intended. Then her palm found the back of his head and pulled him into a deep kiss. Though his cheeks and lips burned at the contact, the pounding in his skull abated.

He unbuckled the knife holster from his hips, and it dropped to the floor. He moved Jackie onto his lap, and she slid her hands underneath his shirt. Her fingertips brushed lightly over the healing wounds on his chest. Surprisingly, they didn't hurt at her touch, and he intensified the rhythm of his kiss. Only one thing he needed now, and it was her.

* * *

Jackie smiled into Steven's fuzzy cheek as he pushed her panties down over her hips. _Finally,_ he was connecting with her the way she needed. His fingers slipped over her wrists and clasped her palms. The stitches sewn into his skin scratched her, but the warmth between their hands made her anticipate him filling her body.

But he didn't do it. The tip of his erection remained on her thigh, unmoving. Up until now, he'd spent half his usual time pressing open-mouthed kisses into her neck, stroking her breasts with gentle fingers, and eliciting happy, unheard cries from her. Considering what had happened to him, she was glad he wanted to be with her at all, but now he was giving her nothing.

"Steven," she said and squeezed his hands. "Why are you hesitating?"

His breath breezed against her face, and the vibration of his voice shuddered from his chest into hers.

"I don't know what you just said," she released his hands and sought the nape of his neck, "and I don't know if you can tell what _I'm_ saying, but..." Her fingers dug into the back of his curls, hoping it would tell him what she wanted, but his stomach contracted sharply, as if he'd gasped in pain. "Oh!" She dropped her arms to the bed. "I'm sorry, baby... I'm sor—."

His lips met her mouth and cut her off. She wrapped her arms around his bare back and swept her palms over his scabbed-up wounds. His skin was hot and already slick with sweat. He was hurting, but she needed to feel him all over her, _inside_ her...

Because it would likely be the last time.

* * *

"Not sure I can give you everything you deserve,"Hyde said before they really started, but Jackie's thighs spread to let his hips settle between them. She wanted him—probably as much as he _needed_ her—yet something about this moment frightened him, and it wasn't the pain coursing beneath his skin, and it sure as hell wasn't the idea Kelso was gonna hear them.

It was the possibility, the Goddamned real possibility that this would be their last time.

* * *

Steven still hadn't entered her yet, and Jackie didn't know what he was waiting for. The weight of his body felt good on top of her. His elbows were flush against her bare shoulders, and the back of his fingers were caressing her cheeks.

"Steven, _please,_ " she said, and as if he'd heard her plea, he pushed himself inside her.

Her body tensed at the initial feeling but soon eased into his movements. He rose and fell away like billowing waves, and she laughed at the comfort that gave her. The rhythm was uniquely _Steven._ Michael had always been bouncy, like a little kid, but Steven was smooth and powerful like the ocean.

She tightened her grip on his back and clung to him. His heart was beating against her chest, and it made her face flush. Words weren't adequate to describe how he made her feel. "Love" was the best choice she had, but when they were together like this—the press of his forehead on her shoulder, his lips warm on her skin, the way he drew back his hips and thrust into her—she didn't need his words to know his feelings. The proof of them was in everything he did. He'd grown so much, _so much..._ and, maybe, so had she.  
  
She'd been such a fool, always searching for what was missing instead of seeing what was already there. He gave her an incredible amount, and though the curse deprived her of enjoying those things, they were _hers._ He'd never given them to anyone else, and he probably never would.

Steven's movements remained steady and sure. He didn't seem to be in pain anymore, and Jackie clung to him as if his body were a life preserver. Ecstatic pressure was building up inside her...

But she couldn't lose herself to it.

His blue eyes always carried such intensity when he made love to her, but only darkness graced her vision now. The sound of his pleasure often turned her on as much as his body—and the way he'd sometimes playfully growl drove her over the edge—but she was deaf to anything his voice could be letting loose. She longed to hear his exasperated sighs when she went on about her hair. And his peaceful breathing when they sat together doing nothing. She ached to see his arms cross when he disagreed with her. And how they went limp when he knew she was right. She missed him _, all of him,_ whether he was grumpy or frisky, cocky or humble...

She missed him.

* * *

The agony in Hyde's body had diminished to a dull ache, but an unrelenting pressure replaced it inside his chest. The strain made his throat tighten, and he wanted to climax already by speeding up, but he'd kept his strokes consistent for Jackie's sake. This was the only way they could truly connect now, sex. He once thought that would be enough; it was laughable how wrong he'd been.

She was holding him in a vice grip, and he used all his willpower not to do the same to her. His face buried itself in her hair; he took in her smell, and now he knew what that pressure in his chest was.

He missed her. The feeling rose up and hit him like an aluminum bat, making his eyes shut tightly. _Holy fuck,_ did he miss her.

"I need you," he blurted hoarsely, "every damn piece of you. Your voice, your freakouts, your abrasiveness... I want all of it back. It's mine, and I want it the fuck back."

He fell back into silence. His thrusts had grown stronger without him realizing. He'd started to come.

A groan left him, resembling something like Jackie's name. He straightened his arms and pushed himself up onto his hands. He had to see her, but rivulets of tears were cutting down her face.

She was crying.

* * *

Jackie's climax made her feel isolated and far away, as if she were in a dark tunnel that had no end—but she had little time to think about it. Steven pulled out of her and sat her up in his lap. He must have blanketed his legs with the bed's duvet because her butt rested on something soft and fluffy. Her face, though, felt hot and wet. Her breath sped from her lungs erratically. She was crying. Uncontrollably crying.

Steven encircled her with his arms. He rubbed her back gently, and his rough cheek slid against her smooth one. He was trying to comfort her.

"Steven, I want you back," she sobbed. "I want you back!" as if that would change things, as if that would break the curse. She threw her arms around his neck and wept into his heartbeat.

* * *

Hyde's eyes were shut as he held onto Jackie's shuddering body. "I'm sorry," he said, and his voice shook with grief. "I can't fix this, doll. I can't fucking fix it..."

* * *

Jackie gasped as Steven's body trembled against her. She drew back and touched his face. It was wet. Was he sweating? Her thumb traced his cheek up to the wet rim of his eye. Those were tears, and the feel of them jolted her.

Something had to be very wrong. He never cried, _never._ She gripped her ring and began to slide it off her finger.


	46. No Perfect Solution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 46  
 **NO PERFECT SOLUTION**  


"Come on," Hyde whispered. "Come on, Grasshopper."

Jackie was naked in his lap and pushing the ring slowly—agonizingly slow—toward her second knuckle. He wanted to clutch her finger and make her yank off the ring, but he'd do nothing but watch. Better that than take the risk of changing her mind.

He remained still as a statue, hands frozen on her back, breath frozen in his chest as the ring passed her second knuckle. He was finally getting her back. He didn't care what the curse did to him. He just wanted, _needed_ Jackie to be safe.

The ring was at the edge of her last and smallest knuckle. Her hands were shaking, and fresh tears spilled down her face. Sunlight from the window made them glow.

_Keep going,_ he wanted to tell her, but pain was snaking up his spine. It collected in his shoulders and coiled around his arms. The bite of it, though, seemed blunt in comparison to his sharp focus on the ring.

The blue diamond sparkled as it reached Jackie's fingernail, and her breath left in staccato puffs. He didn't rub her back, fearing any sudden movement would make her stop. She let out a long shuddering sigh and glanced up at him with blind, wet eyes. "I'm sorry," she mouthed.

"It's okay," he said. "Just do it."

She nodded sadly, as if she'd heard him. He braced himself for whatever was about to hit him, clenched his stomach and tensed his jaw, but how could one really prepare for a curse?

"I'm so sorry," she mouthed again, and the ring moved backward. She'd shoved the ring back up to the base of her finger.

"Damn it!" Hyde dropped his forehead to her bare shoulder. "Damn it..." She combed her fingers through his curls, trying to comfort him, but only one thing could comfort him now. "Jackie..." her name was a sigh on his lips, "you're so fucking..." _not stubborn,_ "determined."

He turned his face and rested his cheek on the ball of her shoulder. The knife holster stared at him from the room's fluffy blue carpet.

Plan C.

* * *

Jackie had fallen asleep naked in Hyde's arms, but he remained awake. Too much sunlight still poured in through the window, and too much adrenaline coursed through his body. He kept imagining ways to chop off her finger, but every idea involved pain. His thoughts imprisoned him as afternoon faded into evening—until a knock at the door paid for his bail. Had to be dinner time.

"Hyde," Kelso's muffled voice came through the door, "time to quit doin' it and eat!"

Hyde roused Jackie with a few kisses and brought her to their bathroom. Afterward, he helped her get dressed. Miss Muffet's attendants had provided a scarlet gown. Jackie looked freakin' beautiful in it, and he wished he could tell her.

She would've enjoyed him in the gray-and-black suit he wore, too. Another gift from Miss Muffet. He looked "respectable," as Jackie liked to say, even though his 'fro was becoming unruly, and he needed a shave—not to mention the red thread stitched into him and the large, browning scabs all over his body.

He moved Jackie's hand to his longer curls—just to tease her—but she didn't react. She should've have made a face and admonished him to get a haircut. That was what he wanted her to do, to be herself, but carrying the brunt of the curse had taken its toll. She had no energy left for annoyances to register. Her mental strength must've been devoted to staying sane.

A frown bent Hyde's lips, but he ran his thumb over the ridge of her ear. Her eyes fell shut, and she leaned her cheek into his palm. He had no anger at her for keeping on the ring. None at all, just a roiling pit where his stomach used to be.

He transferred his matches and pouches of Wolfsbane to his slacks. Then he brought Jackie to the ugly-as-hell hallway. It was too candy-colorful and reminded him of Leo's apartment—that one time Hyde had dropped acid there. Only no psychotic tomatoes were waiting for them in the castle's hallway, just Kelso.

"I heard things," Kelso said with a grin, and he led them toward the grand staircase.

"You got no idea what you heard," Hyde said. "She was so close, man. Almost took the damn thing off!"

"Your dick?"

"No, you moron!" Hyde raised his fist to frog him, but his punch would have no power. He was still weak and lowered his arm. "The ring."

"Oh."

They reached the staircase, and Hyde climbed down without needing any help. The dull ache in his body had become searing pain again, but the pain was a few dozen degrees cooler. He no longer wanted to tear out his nerves, but the anguish in his mind was heating up.

Their friends and Miss Muffet met them inside the dining room. Lamb and potatoes were on the menu tonight, and Hyde forced himself to eat. Forman, Donna, and Big Rhonda, meanwhile, filled his ears with excited descriptions of the castle and its grounds. The original Gingerbread House sounded far out. Hansel and Gretel had been lured there by an Ogre, whose ashes were still in the oven.

"There are always solutions," Miss Muffet said.

Hyde stared at her. "What're you talking about?"

"That Ogre was Hansel and Gretel's mother. They used her kind of treachery to save their own lives."

"They had to kill her," Forman said into his glass of wine. "Great solution." He and Donna were both drinking tonight, and Hyde wasn't unhappy about it. They deserved the break.

"Sometimes there is no perfect solution," Miss Muffet said. Her tone was casual, as if she'd had this discussion hundreds of times. "She left them no choice."

Hyde looked at Jackie. She'd dropped a chunk of lamb onto her gown, but she picked the chunk up with her fingers and stuffed it into her mouth. He should've been laughing, but the sight made his pulse tighten. No way in hell would fashion-obsessed, custom-conscious Jackie ever have crammed that meat down her throat, not without a rant about her ruined dress. But she couldn't see the brown stain on the scarlet fabric—or if anyone was watching how she ate.

Their friends had all dressed up for this dinner except for Kelso, who still wore his wolf-village cotton threads. He'd had no time to change since he'd guarded Hyde and Jackie's door all afternoon. Hyde appreciated it—far more than he'd ever let Kelso know—but a sighted Jackie would've busted Kelso's balls for dressing "like a peasant". She would've done a lot of things...

"Fuck this," Hyde muttered. He reached across Jackie and grabbed Kelso's wrist.

"What are you—" Kelso said.

Hyde planted Kelso's hand on Jackie's knee. "Keep it there." Then he stood up with his own hand on Jackie's shoulder and moved to Kelso's other side. "You roll up that Elf's blossom?"

Kelso nodded.

" _Hyde,_ " Donna said from across the table.

She was warning him, but Hyde took the pouch of Elf blossom from Kelso. "I'll be in my room, man. Bring Jackie once she's done eating."

He removed his hand from Jackie and didn't look back.

* * *

Donna glared at Hyde as he left the dining room, but a moment later, Jackie completely lost it. She patted the spot where Hyde had been sitting and jumped to her feet. His chair shook in her hands while she shouted silently. Then she grabbed his dish off the table and tossed it blindly at Kelso's head. He ducked down, but the dish hit Rhonda in the shoulder.

"Jackie!" Donna gestured toward her. "Eric, go. Go!"

Eric dashed to the other side of the table and took Jackie's hands. She wriggled free and grabbed the collar of his suit jacket. She was yelling something at him.

"He's just in his—" Eric shook his head. "Deaf... Right. Come on..." He held Jackie's hand again, but she collapsed to the floor. She covered her face, and her body shuddered as if she were sobbing.

"What's wrong with her?" Rhonda said.

"Hyde said she almost took off the ring," Kelso said.

Fez frowned. "Ai, no..."

Donna raced to Eric's side and helped him pick Jackie up. She went limp in their arms, still crying. Donna had seen her break down before but never quite like this.

They dragged her into the hallway, and Donna whispered, "What the hell was Hyde thinking?"

"Don't know if he was," Eric said.

The grand staircase loomed ahead of them, and Jackie seemed to regain some of her fight. She pinched Donna's arm hard enough to make Donna yelp.

"Where is he?" Jackie screamed silently. "Where? Where?" She pulled away and ran blindly toward the balustrade. A straight plunge over the railing led to the great hall below—and a messy death. But Eric grabbed her around the waist before she reached it.

"Donna—Donna, help me!" he said. Jackie was squirming in his grip, and Donna grasped her beneath the arms.

Together, she and Eric hauled Jackie back to the staircase. Jackie continued to kick and pinch them, and she even bit Donna's wrist, but Donna kept a solid hold on her. Eric, though, groaned and crumpled onto the first stair.

"Nuts," he hissed. He was clutching his groin protectively. Jackie's foot must have connected.

"Sit this one out," Donna said and hefted Jackie over her shoulder. She climbed the stairs while Jackie's fists pounded her back, but Donna didn't mind. Fighting-Jackie was better than the weepy heap she'd been in the dining room.

They arrived at the royal wing several dozen bruises later. In the morning, Donna's back would be black-and-blue. Friendship sometimes meant getting hurt, but she cared little about her minor injuries. A fragrant, floral smell had drifted into her nostrils. Hyde's door was partially open, and she peeked inside. He was sitting on the floor with his back against the bed frame. He held a leaf-wrapped joint in one hand and his knife in the other.

"Hyde, what the hell?" Donna said and carried Jackie into the room.

"Huh?" Hyde peered up at her and stuck the joint in his mouth. Then he sheathed the knife in its holster. "Dinner's over already?"

"Dinner was over the second you left." Donna's shoulder had begun to ache. Jackie was heavy thanks to the curse, and Donna put her down but held onto her arms. "Look at this." She showed Hyde the teeth marks Jackie had left on her wrist.

"Shit..." Hyde stood up and touched Jackie's cheek. Jackie sniffed his fingers then calmed down enough for Donna to release her. "No, you don't," he said, and the joint bounced against his lips. Jackie must have mouthed something Donna couldn't see.

Donna plucked the joint from his mouth and pinched it out. "Why are you doing this?" She scrutinized whatever skin he had showing. His wounds seemed better than they had this morning. The scabs were browning. "Are you still in that much pain?"

"No..." Hyde wrapped his arms around Jackie, and she sobbed into his chest. "Didn't take one damn puff either."

Donna stared at him, "Then why...?" but he didn't look away. His face was full of shame—cheeks a little red, eyes a little wet—exactly as Jackie described him after his nurse confession.

"Guess I fucked up, man," he said. "Promised I wouldn't let go of her, and I..." He swallowed, something Donna had rarely seen him do without eating involved. "She was freakin' out, huh?"

"Like she'd gone to a half-price sale at the mall." Donna picked up a small, leather pouch from the floor. Inside it were almost a dozen of those leaf-rolled joints. "Looks like you're freaking out, too."

Hyde shrugged. "Nah. I'm cool. Tomorrow, everything's gonna be fine."

"What?" She glanced at the knife holster by the bed. "You're not going to—to kill—?"

"No." He ushered Donna from the room. "Trust me, I got it all figured out. Well, most of it."

She was outside the door now. "This isn't an idea Kelso gave you, is it?"

Hyde smirked, and it made her feel a little better. "Not that desperate yet," he said. "Speakin' of... go get his ass and tell him to stand guard. He can eat dessert up here."

"Sure," she said but hesitated. "I don't want to lose her, Hyde... or you."

"I know..." He looked down at Jackie; she was clutching him like a pillow. "Maybe we'll get lucky. Maybe her voice'll go down a few notches when she gets it back."

Donna chuckled. "Maybe..." She suppressed every urge to blurt the three words he seemed to hate the most, but he and Jackie were family, and she loved them. "I'm gonna make Eric really happy tonight," she said instead, "so... sorry in advance for anything you might hear through the walls."

"Yeah, just try to be louder than him," Hyde said. "That I can use."

"I'll do my best."

* * *

Steven had helped Jackie change into a soft sleeping gown. She was lying on top of him beneath the bed sheets. Her fingertips scratched through his sideburns drowsily, but she kept saying, "I hate you," into his neck. It was all she'd said since Donna—it had to be Donna—brought her back to him.

They were safe now. They had to be, so he had no reason to leave her. She pressed her ear against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat was lost to her, but the vibration pulsed strong and steady. Other vibrations joined it, along with the syncopated rhythm of his breathing. He was talking. His lips sometimes rubbed against the top of her head or left a warm kiss there.

She could only imagine what he was saying. Maybe he was telling her a story or describing the kingdom they'd come to. But the heavy sighs that occasionally left him told her something else. He had to be upset she didn't take off the ring. That could've been why he'd left her. He was angry.

"Steven," she said, "if you ever abandon me again, I'll give you something you'll really be angry about," but he couldn't hear her, and she couldn't hear him. They were deaf to each other, just as they'd been during their breakups. But now, their deafness would lead to their deaths. "You have to figure this out, baby. Please... _please!_ " Her fingers curled in the silk of his pajama shirt. "Fix this! Or find someone who can because I'm not ready to leave you."

* * *

Hyde's voice was raw from talking. He'd never spoken so much in his life, and Jackie was still awake, even after hours of it. He confessed everything to her, the dark and scary things still creeping inside his head, the soft and vulnerable things she begged to have. It all came spilling out like blood. His body was spent, exhausted, but his spirit remained heavy despite the release. Only one thing would solve that.

He glanced to the right of him. His supplies all sat on top of the bed—leather gloves, pouches of Wolfsbane, jar of curdling moss, and the knife holster. His right hand was busy rubbing Jackie's back beneath her gown, so he used his teeth to tug a glove onto his left hand. Then he took two blue pebbles from one of the Wolfsbane pouches.

Jackie was falling asleep, but he needed her awake. No way to tell if his plan was working otherwise. He tickled her side. She squirmed a little and brushed her face against his silk pajama shirt. His right hand glided over her wrist and grasped it. Then he pressed the Wolfsbane pebbles into her palm.

She sprang up, but his grip tightened on her wrist and closed her fingers around the Wolfsbane. Her eyes were wide with a mixture of surprise and what had to be overwhelming sensation—and maybe even betrayal. Mute giggles poured out of her as she tried to pull away, but he sat up and kept her hand firmly around the Wolfsbane.

"Ste—" she mouthed. "Ste—"  
 _  
_She couldn't say anything coherent because she was laughing too hard, but he was sure of what she was thinking.

"Jackie, you really _are_ gonna hate me," he said, "for the next twenty minutes. But then you're gonna thank me, doll. It's gotta be done."

Candles lit the room dimly, and her ring glinted at him. He imagined smashing it to pieces.

"I'm sorry," he said. Both his hands cupped Jackie's fist, forcing it to remain closed. Her giggling had turned into something entirely different. She was wriggling her left arm and sobbing. "It's gotta be done," he repeated. She had to be going numb, which was probably scaring the hell out of her. She relied on touch for almost everything now, but a passing moment of terror was worth her life.

She struggled against him for fifteen minutes. His heart pounded all the while with leftover pain and his own terror. What he was doing sickened him—as much as the fight in her gave him hope. But the Wolfsbane finally did its job. Her breathing slowed. Her desperate writhing stopped.

He removed one of his hands from her fist and raised her chin. Her eyes were glassy and unblinking. He closed her lids and laid her down on the bed. She was paralyzed and had to be completely numb, but she wasn't unconscious. Wolfsbane didn't have the decency to knock a person out, so Hyde needed to move quickly.

He uncurled her fingers and brushed the blue dust from her hand. Then he threw off his glove and grabbed the knife from its holster. "I gotta do this, Jackie."

He positioned her hand on the bed and re-curled her fingers beneath her palm—all fingers but one. The ring finger was straight, and the knife blade hovered over base of it. One swift chop wouldn't be possible. He'd have to slice carefully, to protect the rest of her hand.

Her skin was warm in his grip, and her pulse beat against him like machine-gun fire. She couldn't have wanted him to do this. His palm grew sweaty over the knife's handle, and his own speeding heart riddled him with doubt. Maybe _she_ had to be the one to take the ring off, willingly. He could chop off her finger only to screw them both worse.

He withdrew the blade safely away from her hand. He was shaking too badly now to make a clean slice. He needed to talk to someone, like Fez or Forman, before he made this kind of choice.

The knife returned to its holster. The Wolfsbane pouches and jar of curdling moss moved onto the floor. "One more night," Hyde whispered into Jackie's deaf ear. "That's all I'm giving this 'cause I'm done, man. I'm fucking finished."

He fell into a deep sleep afterward with Jackie in his arms. Nightmares of chasing her over rocky hills gave him no peace. The clear blue sky loomed overhead like a dome, but reaching her would free them both.

He scrambled over a dirt ledge and got close enough to touch her ankles, but wolves ambushed him. Their teeth sunk into his flesh and ripped chunks off his body, and the taste of his own blood overwhelmed him. He was a red-soaked mess, crawling in the dirt like a maggot when they were done. Every movement shot burning pain into his nerves, but Jackie was so close. The sky had wrapped her in blue.

His hand reached out and smeared her calf with blood, but a wolf slammed her into the dirt. Jaws, as powerful as they were brutal, broke into her chest. They cracked her bones, tore out her heart...

Hyde awoke with a gasp. His pajamas clung damply to his skin, but he felt surprisingly serene. The dream had retreated to a hazy corner of his memory. He lay in the bed and stretched, allowing a yawn to escape noisily from his throat. His body felt better than it had in a long damn time, but something tugged on his brain like a fishhook.

Sunbeams shone through the window and landed on the overweight redhead lying next to him. The sight jarred him. Her face was kinda cute, but unlike Fez, he had a strict policy of not sleeping with meaty chicks. He threw off the covers and sat up _—_ and tried to remember how he'd ended up with her. _Man,_ had he gotten so completely trashed last night that he'd tossed his standards?

The chick stirred but didn't wake, and he found he couldn't pull his gaze away. Her skin glowed in the sunlight, and her pink lips were slightly parted. He touched her warm cheek, and the fishhook yanked his brain into his heart. Holy hell, he loved this girl. _He loved her._

A name seeped from his mouth, "Jackie?" Her left hand was hidden beneath the pillow. He pulled it out, and her ring's blue diamond sparkle at him.

Fear iced up his blood. He remembered everything now. He'd forgotten her before, more than once, and each time she'd lost another sense.

He dropped soft kisses on her lips, her neck—until she woke. She stiffened then kissed him back. Her tongue dipped into his mouth but withdrew before giving him a real taste.

"What is it? What'd you lose?" he said and searched her face for a clue. His fingertips ran over her jawline, and she smiled into his thumb when it reached her lips. Then she tried to bite him.

"Hey—" He withdrew his hand and moved it to safer spot on her body. "You're pissed about last night. Well, you can yell the shit outta me once you get back your voice. I'll enjoy it."

He made her sit up, and he pulled off her nightgown. Her sense of touch was clearly intact, but she must have lost something. He intended to find out what.

* * *

Jackie had no idea where Steven was taking her. They'd gone down those stairs, were turning familiar corners, but she couldn't be sure. The smells that gave her cues were gone. She dug her fingernails into Steven's hand as he pulled her along. What he'd done to her last night with the Wolfsbane was cruel and frightening, but it had also given her a taste of what was to come.

_No..._ he hadn't been cruel but _desperate._ He was so desperate for her to remove the ring, trying everything he could to make that happen.

She loosened her grip on his hand and brought it to her lips. "I'm sorry, Puddin',"she said and kissed his cool skin. Their choices were impossible. If she took off the ring, she'd have her senses back, but she'd lose Steven. If she kept the ring on, she'd lose him anyway—but at least he'd be alive.

He sat her down in an uncushioned chair. It felt like one from the dining room, but she couldn't smell anything. Something mushy touched her lips. She shook her head and pushed it away. A moment later, Steven returned the mush to her mouth and tapped her lips with it. Was it food? Why couldn't she tell? She let him place it on her tongue, but it felt disgusting and had no taste. She spat it out.

He rubbed something rougher in texture against her lips. She tried chewing it, but the sensation was too unpleasant. His finger brushed up and down her throat. He wanted her to swallow, to eat, but she couldn't. Even if it were food— _what else could it be?—_ it was awful having that stuff in her mouth.

She sighed, and then Steven's lips were upon her. He deepened his kiss quickly, but something smooth and round entered her mouth with his tongue. A grape? He was pulling every trick he had, and it threatened to make her weep. She had to reward his effort, his love, no matter how gross eating felt.

She chewed the grape when his mouth withdrew from her. Its juice splashed on her tongue, and its broken skin felt like shreds of damp paper, but she swallowed it all down. He popped another grape into her mouth, and she ate that, too—and the rest he gave her. Then he handed her a glass full of liquid. Drinking she found to be easier, and she drained the glass completely.

He pulled her into an embrace afterward. She buried her face in his neck and inhaled a deeply through her nose. Nothing. Her sense of smell was gone, and taste had vanished along with it.

* * *

"Forman, Fez," Hyde said with Jackie in his arms, "we gotta confab, man. _Now._ "

He hadn't eaten a thing, though breakfast included some of his favorite foods like thick waffles and sausage. Jackie's sense of taste was gone—or smell—didn't matter. Whatever she'd lost made her not want to eat, which meant she'd starve.

"But, um... " Forman said from across the table, "I gotta finish eating. The Council of the Nine's going to start soon—"

"Yeah?" Hyde said. "Jackie's gonna die soon."

Fez left his plate and walked over to him. "What is it, my friend?"

Fez was dressed as formally as Hyde had ever seen him—gold sash and brocade, the works. Forman, Donna, and Kelso were all dressed up fancy, too. Miss Muffet hadn't shown for breakfast, though, probably to deal with arriving royalty.

"Hyde, we are in a hurry," Fez said.

Hyde sat down on his chair and brought Jackie into his lap. This Council of the Nine seemed like a big deal, but it meant nothing to him. "Listen," he said and explained what he'd done last night. He would've preferred only Fez and Forman to hear this. But Donna, Kelso, and Big Rhonda weren't going anywhere—not unless he insisted, and he didn't have time for that.

" _That_ was your plan?" Donna said. "Cutting off her finger?"

Kelso tutted. "Dude, you totally punked out."

"Paralyze her again," Rhonda said and stabbed a sausage with her knife. "I'll chop that sucker off, no problem."

"No." Fez put up his hand. "Hyde made the right choice. Curses can be very sneaky."

"So what the hell am I supposed to do?" Hyde said. "I'm out of ideas."

"A curse this strong does not go unnoticed," Fez said, "as we've learned from the wolves. I will ask my fellow sovereigns if they've heard rumors—"

"Screw rumors!" Hyde slammed his fist on the table. Plates bounced, and his nerves throbbed from the impact. "I need a fucking answer!"

Fez placed his hands on his hips and gazed at the ceiling, as if it could tell him something. Rhonda bit into the sausage she'd stabbed. Donna looked away, and Kelso shifted his weight in his chair. They were out of ideas, too, but Forman said, "Do something that'll make her take the ring off."

Hyde began to speak, but Forman kept going. "No, Hyde, hear me out. If you can't take the ring off for her, make _her_ take it off. There's gotta be something, right? She's still Jackie."

Kelso stood up excitedly and waved his arm. "I got it! Crack a few eggs on the ring. She hates eggs!"

Hyde scowled at him. "Would you shut up and let me think?"

Jackie had fallen asleep in his lap. All the easy answers required a kind of pain he could never inflict on her. What he'd done last night was bad enough. But he knew another kind of pain he'd subjected her to recently.

He pressed his forehead into Jackie's temple and shut his eyes. No perfect solutions, man. Never were, but what he had planned was their best—and maybe last—hope.


	47. Throw Down the Key

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 47  
 **THROW DOWN THE KEY**  


Fez had led Eric, Donna, and Kelso up a dizzying amount of winding staircases. The castle's grand conference hall overlooked what used to be Queen Gretel's territory, including part of Red Riding Hood Forest. But as nervous as Eric was about the Council of the Nine, he couldn't get last night out of his head. He and Donna had finally resumed their honeymoon, and—man, did they resume it. She'd suggested a new position that she must have gotten out of Cosmo. They both were kneeling, he was behind her, but the intimacy between them trumped the hotness factor. All he could see were her eyes as she gazed up at him. All he could feel was her, and he clung to that feeling as they passed the castle guards and entered the conference hall.

The room was large and bright, and a curved table shaped like a "C" took up most of the space. Clusters of luminescent gumdrops provided light, and chocolate had been fashioned to look like wood. Both the table and the chairs were made from it, but most remarkable—and intimidating—to Eric's eyes were the people occupying those chairs. Donna must have felt the same way because she was squeezing the life out of his hand.

Royalty from across the Nine Kingdoms had traveled here. Miss Muffet announced Fez and Kelso's arrival, and Fez greeted each kingdom's ruler—or representative—formally. In attendance were:

Cinderella and two of her mannish Stepsisters.

The Troll Nation's three sovereigns: Burly, Blabberwort, and Bluebell.

The Naked Emperor with three attendants, including the blond Camillo, who hid the Emperor's nudity with giant fern fronds.

Slevin, the elaborately-bearded Dwarf King.

Leaf Fall, Queen of the Elf Kingdom. She had the typical pointed ears of Elves and translucent wings jutting from her back. But colorful globs of light drifted off her skin, as if magic ran in her veins.

Calandra, representative of the cursed Sixth Kingdom. The realm was ruled by Rapunzel's daughter, but she and all its inhabitants had fallen under a hundred-year sleeping spell. They had twenty-six years to go. How Calandra came to represent them, Eric wasn't told, but she yawned a lot.

The Ice Queen, ruler of the northern Eighth Kingdom. Her skin resembled glass, but passing by her, Eric shivered.

One attendee, however, went unidentified. At one end of the curved table sat a figure cloaked in brown. His face was obscured by a hood, and Donna whispered to Kelso, "Who's that?"

"Probably another of Cinderella's uggo Stepsisters," Kelso said, but in moments Eric discerned the cloaked figure's identity. His scent was unmistakable: a mixture of bacon and animal musk. He was that wolf who'd rescued them from the Duergar, the one Donna seemed to have some affection for.

Eric's hackles raised, and he fought every urge to run. What was that wolf doing here? Had he been invited? He must have been. Either that, or he'd used his glowing orange eyes to hypnotize everyone here. No one was questioning his presence, but why was he hiding himself?

"Let's sit over here, in the back," Eric said. He guided Donna away from the table—away from Wolf, as she called him—but the Naked Emperor stood up and gestured for Eric to come over. Fez repeated the gesture, and Eric had little choice but to go.

"Why, Eric Forman!" the Naked Emperor said and shook Eric's right hand vigorously. "Emilia's potion did the trick, I see. You're no longer afflicted by the flare-bug bite! I'm happy you didn't die, my boy."

"Um... thanks. Me, too." Eric glanced back at the wall, at the chairs he so desperately wanted himself and Donna to sit on.

"The morale of my kingdom has increased exponentially since you returned the Princess Pea to us." The Naked Emperor hit Eric's arm affectionately. "You must join me. Camillo, fetch those chairs."

Camillo brought the chairs from the wall, and Donna sat down first, leaving a space between herself and the Naked Emperor. Eric couldn't blame her. The Emperor was naked, after all, but before Eric sat, he calculated the distance between Wolf and the Trolls. Burly, Blabberwort, and Bluebell could probably take Wolf out before he reached Donna's throat.

"Shall we begin?" Fez said and moved between the table's curved ends. An easel draped in purple fabric was standing beside him. "Queen Gretel the Third's death three months ago—"

"Murder!" Slevin, the Dwarf King, shouted. "It was murder!"

Yes." Fez cleared his throat before continuing. He seemed uncomfortable, and Eric sympathized. Gretel had been like Fez's sister. "We believe Queen Gretel's murder has made the disparate wolf packs band together, united under the crafty Grayhead. They are afraid Queen Riding Hood will gain complete power over the Second Kingdom and flush them from their forests, force them from their homes."

"Like so many of our own countries have done," Donna whispered, "to people of different ethnicities," but Eric couldn't see the wolves as people. All he saw were animals who'd turned his brother into a pool of blood.

"If Penny wants to burn them all," he whispered, "good riddance."

Donna glared at him. "That includes you."

"Everyone but me. Okay?"

Leaf Fall, the Elf Queen, tented her fingers on the table, and everyone became silent. "It is very presumptuous," she said, "of the wolves to assume Queen Riding Hood could take control of all the Second Kingdom. A decision like that requires the approval of the Council of the Nine."

Eric smirked. It was presumptuous of Leaf Fall to assume Penny would wait for approval. She never did that at home, always stealing cookies from the jar and asking post-digestion if she could have some.

"Why shouldn't Queen Riding Hood have control?" Blabberwort shouted, and her frizzy orange hair bounced above her crown.

Burly nodded. "She runs a smooth operation up north from here."

"Wolves are no-good thieves!" Bluebell added, and Wolf stirred at the end of the table.

Fez clapped his hands once, and the sound reverberated loudly against the walls. "Be that as it may," he said, "Queen Gretel was unmarried and has no heirs. Before any decision is made as to whom will succeed to her throne, we must learn who killed Gretel and why."

He whipped the purple drape off the easel. Underneath was a graphic painting of Gretel's dead body. She was pale, naked, and riddled with tiny holes, as if thousands of needles had been stuck into her.

The room collectively gasped, and the Naked Emperor said, "My goodness! She was bled to death!"

"By Queen Riding Hood the Third," the Ice Queen said, and Eric shuddered. Not because of the woman's frosty, emotionless voice. She'd just accused his cousin of murder.

The room erupted into a cacophony of yelling. Slevin, the Dwarf King, called for Penny's head. The Trolls banged on the table with clubs, but Cinderella raised a finger, and they all quieted down.

"It appears that Queen Riding Hood has done the deed," she said, "but that may be what we're supposed to believe. The true murderer—or murderers—may have framed her."

"Exactly." Fez re-covered the painting of Gretel's body, but not before Eric spotted something peculiar about her ear. It seemed a different color from the rest of her, more red and less pale, but what did Eric know about corpses? Maybe the ear had been pecked at by vultures or the artist dipped his brush into the wrong paint. "We cannot accuse anyone of anything until we are certain. That is why we're going to send in someone to find out—from the inside."

"But who are we to send?" Calandra, of the sleeping Sixth Kingdom, had spoken between yawns. She tried to shake her head, too, but her floor-length hair was caught beneath Slevin's chair. She tapped his broad arm, and he freed her. "Ahem. Thank you. Queen Riding Hood the Third is very savvy, just as her mother was—and her grandmother. She will see through such a ruse."

"Yes, she is clever," Fez said and walked around the table's outer edge. "But we are fortunate enough to have with us someone who is very close to her, someone she will trust implicitly: her cousin, Eric Albert Forman."

He clasped Eric's shoulder, but his touch felt like betrayal. Had Fez planned this all along? To entice Eric to go through the mirror and set him up?

"M—me?" Eric said. "But Penny—I mean, Queen Riding Hood—she doesn't trust me. I'm the last person she would trust. For God's sake, Fez, I trapped her in a revolving door while she threw up and made her walk in her own puke."

The Trolls laughed at this, but Fez crouched and lowered his face to Eric's ear. "That is precisely why she will trust you," he whispered. "You have much history together, and she believes she knows what you're capable of."

"You want him to spy on Penny?" Donna said.

"Yes."

Eric pushed Fez's hand off his shoulder. "And exactly how am I supposed to do that?"

"By giving her what she wants," Fez said and straightened up. "You."

Donna shot out of her chair, eyes blazing with anger and scent stinking with fear. "No! Eric's not gonna do this, Fez. Penny has never liked him. And the moment she realizes this Council has put him up to spying on her—if she is guilty of Gretel's murder—what do you think she'll do to him?"

"Huff-puff, I wouldn't let anything happen to him." Wolf stood up and thrust off his cloak. His black hair was neatly combed, save a few flyaway strands, and beneath the cloak was a classy pinstriped suit. For an animal, he sure knew how to dress.

"Wolf?" Donna stepped toward him, but Eric held her back. He gripped her arm firmly in case she tried something stupid.

"Yes," Cinderella said. "Wolf, here, has been spying on Queen Riding Hood for many months. She trusts him—and has trusted him with much."

Donna glanced over her shoulder at Eric, and doubt clouded her features for the first time about that wolf. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

"But you're a wolf!" Eric said for her. "Penny—she hates wolves."

"Oh, not all wolves," Wolf said, and he scraped two fingers across his temple. "She may hate us as people, but she makes exceptions for family." His eyes trained sharply on Eric's, and Eric understood half of Wolf's unspoken message: Yes, Eric, I know you're one of us.

The other half, though, Eric couldn't bring himself to ask about.

"Wait," Donna said, speaking in his place, "does that mean you're—"

Wolf placed a finger to his lips, and his eyes glowed orange. Donna jerked her head, as if shaking off a fly, but she never finished her question.

"I won't allow Queen Riding Hood to hurt either of you," Wolf said, "but we must move swiftly. The wolves are growing more frightened by the day. They fear for their safety, and many want to rule all of the Second Kingdom themselves—with Grayhead as their leader. They are growling for war."

"But we've already had war!" Miss Muffet said. It was the first time she'd spoken after the Council introductions, and her smell was rife with grief. "The Civil War between the south and north left only wolves, human grandmothers, and their granddaughters in its wake. We have no men left to fight. The wolves would have an easy victory."

"Have you met the Red Caps?" Eric said, but his words were lost beneath the Trolls' shouted comments.

"War is ncey-nice!" Blabberwort said.

Burly nodded. "Yeah, I could use a good war."

"But bad wars leave too many people on the wrong side dead," Bluebell said, snarling.

Wolf returned to his seat and pulled a bacon sandwich from his cloak. "The sooner we get to the bottom of Gretel's murder," he said and bit into his sandwich, "the sooner we can take action and prevent this war."

"The south of the Second Kingdom needs a ruler," Fez said. "As its steward, I must survey its current state before I can make any recommendations. Queen Riding Hood is only one option. There are others."

Slevin raised a small but thick hand. "Yes, like splitting it up among the eight of us."

"That should be our last resort," Leaf Fall said. Unlike everyone else, she was sitting on a stool, and her translucent wings fluttered behind her. "More is at stake here than this kingdom. The whole of the Nine Kingdoms is threatened by this potential war. I've heard rumors of a very powerful artifact," she was staring at Fez now, "one that belonged to your grandmother Snow White. With it, wolves could control the fate of us all."

"Yeah, the ring!" Kelso shouted. "Jackie and Hy—"

Fez cut him off with a look. Then he turned his attention to Eric. "My friend, you have already done so much for the Nine Kingdoms, sacrificed so much. But I must ask for your help again."

Eric didn't hesitate. "You've got it."

"Eric!" Donna said. She fell onto her chair like a block of wood and tugged on his sleeve. "Eric," she said much quieter, "you don't have to do this.

"Donna, I was already planning on seeing Penny. If I can help Fez out, it might help Hyde and Jackie— and everyone else. I have to do this."

"It won't bring Laurie back."

"I'm not—" He swallowed and clutched his knees beneath the table. "I know, okay? But it might bring me back." He stood up and shook Fez's hand, unsure of how contracts were made in the Nine Kingdoms. "Fez, I'll do it."

The room exploded in applause. "Splendid! Such bravery!" the Naked Emperor proclaimed, and Slevin squeezed Eric's hand almost hard enough to break it. But to Eric, it all seemed like a long dream playing out: Penny as Red Riding Hood's granddaughter, Grandma Forman as the original Red Riding Hood— and Eric himself being a wolf.

It was all impossibly surreal, but he'd felt that way long before going through the mirror. He'd been lost since he bailed on his first wedding to Donna. "What you choose to nurture grows, loser," Laurie's spirit had told him, but the only thing growing now was self-doubt.

"Yes, we returned to the cave my grandfather had taken the diamond from," Fez said, "but the dragon was indeed slain." Everyone but Eric had gone back to their seats, and Donna was pulling on him to sit down. Fez must have explained about the ring while Eric had zoned out. "The curse is from another source," Fez continued, "woven by someone who seeks to alter the lifeblood of the Nine Kingdoms."

The Ice Queen smiled in Eric's direction, and it startled him into finally sitting—accidentally on Donna's lap. The Ice Queen's presence was more like an absence, and instead of moving off Donna, Eric slipped an arm around her shoulders and stayed put. He recalled how her hips moved against him last night, how her warm, bare stomach tensed beneath his hands...

"The Curse of True Love," the Ice Queen said flatly. The room seemed to grow degrees colder when she spoke. "King Fez, if your friends do not realize how to break it, then true love will be gone from all the kingdoms—not just mine."

"Did you curse the ring?" Donna said.

The Ice Queen laughed, and it sounded like icicles smashing on pavement. "Me? My heart is cold, but I have nothing against love. I just do not understand it."

"This is very grave indeed," Leaf Fall said. "I will do whatever I can to shed light on the curse's mystery. We Elves are learned in the ways of old, powerful magic. I shall bring this problem to my loremasters."

"And I will speak to the Librarian," Slevin said. "We Dwarves may be innovators, but we hew closely to tradition."

"Hey," Kelso leaned across the table toward him, "could you tell the Librarian it was an accident I wrecked all his mirrors? I had bad luck."

Slevin scowled. "No, you are very lucky, Sir Kelso, that I didn't have you extradited for mass murder."

"Yeesh." Kelso frowned and backed off.

Fez clapped his hands again, this time lightly. "Thank you, my friends and fellow sovereigns. We will keep in close contact in regards to all these matters."

Everyone rose from their seats, and they chattered among themselves. Wolf, however, approached Eric and Donna. "We will start your training the day after tomorrow," Wolf said. "I must inform Penny that I've convinced you to explore..." he glanced around the room like he didn't want anyone else to hear, but everyone's attention was elsewhere, "your family history."

"Training?" Eric said. Donna was holding onto him very tightly. Whatever trust she had for Wolf, it seemed to have shrank. "What kind of training?"

"Why, how to be a wolf, of course. You've got a lot of inherent traits you could be making better use of."

Wolf began to slink away, but Eric grabbed ahold of his pinstriped sleeve. "But how will I know where to meet you?"

"Oh, don't worry." Wolf swiped two fingers against Eric's temple. "I'll find you."

Jackie didn't know where Steven had taken her, but he seemed agitated. He was pacing back and forth, and she had to cling to his arm because he refused to hold her hand.

"What's wrong, Puddin'?" she said to no effect. He probably didn't see her, and he definitely hadn't heard her. God, she hated this! She didn't want to die. She very much needed to live... so she could marry him and have a career and bear his children. To make love to him even when he was gray-haired and wrinkled—and she had a wrinkle or two, but plastic surgery would smooth those out...

No, she wouldn't have them erased. They'd be badges of honor, earned from all the pain and laughter she and Steven shared. Far better to be happily wrinkled than to die an empty, beautiful corpse—

"Oh, God, it's happening. I'm going crazy." She hugged herself to Steven's arm and pressed her sobbing face into it. Wrinkles as badges of honor? That was something Donna might have said, but deep down, Jackie believed it, too. She didn't want the experiences of her life cut out by a doctor's scalpel... or her life cut short by the ring.

"I just want to live my life with you, baby," she said into Steven's sleeve. "That's gonna be the worst part of dying, being separated from you."

Hyde was pacing the great hall while Jackie gripped his arm and tried to keep up. The pressure of her fingers hurt far less than the day before, but he had to keep moving, man. The waiting was driving him crazy. At least the great hall had lots of room to pace. It was well-guarded, too, and led to the grounds outside. Plan D couldn't happen inside the castle.

"Burkhart keeps slipping off you," Rhonda said and twirled her axe in her hands. She had to be bored watching his back and Jackie's.

He slowed his pace but didn't stop. The Council of the Nine Kingdoms had been going on over an hour, and he needed Forman out of there already. Hyde couldn't implement his imperfect solution without him, and Forman would need Donna and Kelso for backup.

"Burkhart's crying," Rhonda said.

Hyde looked down at Jackie for the first time in a while. Her face was mashed against his arm, but her body shuddered, and his sleeve was becoming wet. He'd tried to remain emotionally distant from her, but his heart grew brittle as she wept.

"Hey..." He stopped pacing and brushed his fingers through her hair. She took that as an invitation to wrap her arms around his waist and cry into his chest. "Enjoy this feeling, Grasshopper," he said and held her tightly, "'cause it's gonna get worse before it gets better."

Eric should have expected what met them in the great hall. Hyde was sitting on the peanut-brittle floor and rubbing Jackie's back. She was bent over his lap, sobbing, while Rhonda stood close by.

Hyde glanced up at him. "So?"

"Things like this are better discussed in private," Miss Muffet said. She gestured for everyone to follow her, and Fez, and Kelso did so immediately.

Hyde, however, didn't move from the floor. "I'm goin' nowhere except out, and I need you and Donna to come with me, Forman."

Eric began to speak, but Miss Muffet cut him off. "I promise you, Mr. Hyde, your immediate future with Miss Burkhart will not be altered by a ten-minute delay. But your long-term prospects may benefit from gaining some new information. Please, join us in my office."

Hyde's jaw clenched, but he relented—and Eric was relieved. He wanted Hyde to know what had happened in the Council of the Nine.

Miss Muffet's office lay beyond a maze of hallways. Tapestries decorated it, and they depicted two women, one of whom was holding a baby. "Gretel the Great," Miss Muffet explained, "her daughter, Gretel the Second, and the infant is my sweet Gretel the Third."

Soft couches furnished the room, and everyone but Hyde sat down. He'd made sure Jackie was seated but kept only his leg close enough for her to hold onto. That was strange. Usually Hyde gave Jackie complete access to his body, but he seemed to be distancing himself.

"What's this 'new information'?" Hyde said with a scowl. "And make it quick."

Eric took the initiative and launched into a summary of the Council of the Nine. His voice whizzed through it, slowing only when he got to the part about spying on Penny.

"It's a big risk, man," Hyde said.

"I won't be alone, though," Eric said. "I'll have, um... " He couldn't say it, not to Hyde, that he'd have a wolf helping him.

"That's right." Donna gave his shoulders a squeeze. "I'll be there with you."

"You will?"

"Eric, of course. When we took our vows, we agreed to face life together. I thought it would be about dealing with our careers and kids, that kind of stuff. But this is where we are now, this is what we have to deal with. And we're dealing with it together."

"Oh, God, Donna..." Eric leaned in—overwhelmed by the moment, by her solidarity—and kissed her. "I love you."

Fez, meanwhile, filled Hyde in about the rest, about the Elf Queen and the Dwarf King lending their help with the curse.

"Cool," Hyde said, "but I need your help now, man."

Fez nodded. "Anything, my friend."

"I need a private, isolated place to bring Jackie to."

"You can use the original Gingerbread House," Miss Muffet said, but Eric didn't relish the idea of returning there. The place was creepy.

"Great." Hyde grasped Jackie's wrist, not her hand, and yanked her off the couch. "Show me."

A gleaming pebble trail wended from the castle to the Gingerbread House. The cottage was bigger than the safehouse in the forest, but its innards made Hyde shudder. A pallet of straw lay in the corner, a few shelves with plates lined the wall, and a crude-looking oven sat in the back. Next to the oven was a small, empty cage—where the Ogre had trapped Hansel to fatten him up.

Yeah, Hyde knew the story of Hansel and Gretel well. It was the only fairy tale his mother ever told him, except in her version the Ogre won.

"Time's up," he muttered and sat Jackie on the pallet of straw. Then he crouched down and held her shoulders. He'd been a little rough with her since after breakfast, but it had served a purpose, a necessary part of plan D.

"Hyde?" Kelso said. He was standing back with everyone else—Forman, Donna, Fez and Rhonda. Hyde didn't mind their presence. The more the merrier. "Are you gonna do it with her while we watch?"

Hyde remained as silent as Jackie, but his heart knocked against his chest. He dug his fingers into her shoulders, hard enough to hurt. She cried out soundlessly, and that was when he released her and stepped away.

"What are you doing?" Donna said.

He took another few steps back as Jackie rose to her feet. "Forman's right," he said. "Something's gotta motivate her to take off that ring. Not knowing where I am or what's happened to me might just do it."

Another ingredient in this mix was his less-than-kind treatment of her. She needed to be as confused as possible, man. Topsy-turvy. Off-kilter.

"Steven?" she mouthed and stumbled forward. Her hand reached out for him.

Hyde backed off further, to where their friends stood. They were by one of the gingerbread walls, next to a shelf of plates.

"Jackie—" Donna stepped forward, but Hyde didn't let her get closer than that.

"Donna, if you care about her," he said, "you won't touch her."

"Where is he? Where's Steven?" Jackie stamped her foot, her hands balled into fists, and she silently screamed his name a few times. Then she collapsed in a heap on the floor and broke down crying. She hugged herself, rocked back and forth.

Kelso made a move next, but Hyde stopped him, too. "Don't, man."

"Hyde, how can you just let her be like this?" Donna stepped forward again but with far more force than before. Hyde didn't have the strength to stop her. Pain shot into his arms as she wrenched free of him, but Forman got in her way and ushered her back to the wall.

"Thanks," Hyde said.

But Donna's face grew flush, and she screamed at him in way she never had before: "How can you do this? Where the hell is your heart?"

He pointed to Jackie, "It's right there," and edged to the cottage's door. "If any of you care about her, you won't touch her either—unless she's tryin' to hurt herself."

He grasped the sugar-spun doorknob and turned his back to everyone. He couldn't watch Jackie suffer like this anymore, not without making it stop. He almost died kissing her after the wolves had chewed him up, and kissing her now would probably lead to her own death.

"Come get me when she takes that ring off," he said before leaving the cottage. "I'll be outside. Oh, and watch your heads. She likes to throw things."

"Get off me, Eric. Get off!"

Donna was squirming in Eric's arms, but he maintained a tight grip on her. They had to let this play out.  
Jackie had crawled back to the straw pallet, and she was tearing it to shreds. She groped for the wall when she was finished. She pulled herself up, and her hand found a shelf. Then it found the plates.

The first plate crashed against the oven. The second connected with Rhonda's club. She'd pushed Fez behind her, and Kelso yanked Eric and Donna to the floor as a third plate flew over their heads.

To anyone else's eyes, Jackie's behavior would've looked like a tantrum—and maybe it was. Maybe she knew the time had come to remove the ring, and this was her last-ditch effort to prevent that from happening.

As the rampage continued, Eric, Donna, and Kelso stayed huddled on the floor. Jackie seemed to grow dissatisfied with plate-throwing and fumbled around the cottage. She bumped into the empty cage and hefted it up. A massive amount of adrenaline must have been pumping into her system because she hurled the cage a good distance. It slammed into one of the shelves, causing the plates to fall.

"She better take that ring off soon," Kelso said, and a dish broke into shards above their shoulders, "or she's gonna take our heads off."

Hyde leaned back against the cottage's outer wall and crossed his arms. The sky was a bright blue, too blue. A blue Jackie would've liked. He shut his eyes, but her crying face appeared behind them, so he gazed down at the dirt. The weather was mild, too, sunshine with a cool breeze. She would've loved this day, anywhere else but here.

His fists gripped the cottage wall. The gingerbread crumbled under his fingers, just like his defenses beneath the slow movement of time. Unlike the gingerbread, however, his defenses weren't regenerating. He was feeling, man—a lot, and none of it was good.

A tear rolled off his chin and dropped into the dirt. It was followed by another one. And another.

Fuck...

He stared down at his chest, expecting to find a gaping hole. Was this what Jackie had experienced during the curse's first attack on her? He rubbed his hand over his heart. It beat against his palm, but he felt empty, like a fundamental part of himself had been gouged out.

Jackie sucked in deep breaths. Air reached her lungs, but her mind was drowning in a screaming darkness. It was her voice filling the void, calling one name.

Her heart could take no more, and her body acted without thought. The walls encasing her mind fell away, and bleary light stung her eyes. She didn't understand what was happening, but the sweet, cinnamon smell of gingerbread saturated her senses as she inhaled another breath to scream...

"Steven!"

Hyde's eyes were wet and blurry, and his sanity had finally jumped off the deep end. He was so desperate to hear Jackie's voice that he was imagining it now.

"STEVEN!"

That shout had come from the cottage. He bolted to the door and grabbed the knob, but the door swung open. Forman was on the other side.

"Hyde, get—!" Forman cut himself off when he spotted Hyde standing there. "She took the ring off, man."

"Jackie!" Hyde pushed his way inside and wiped his face, but it didn't do shit because his eyes wouldn't dry up.

"Steven!" Jackie's scream was ear-piercing and almost unintelligible, but he was elated to hear it.

She hurled herself into his body, and he stumbled backward. He embraced her tightly, but his arms had less of her to hold. She was no longer round and soft but smooth and tight, back to the way she was before the curse. He buried her face in her hair, no longer orange but brown.

"Why did you do that, you asshole?" she yelled at him. "Why did you leave me?"

"Had to be done, Sunlight," he said and froze. He hadn't meant to call her that. Or, maybe, he had.

"Oh, my God, I can hear you!" She patted his back frantically. "Say that again. Say anything so I can hear it."

"Damn it," he said and all the emotion swirling inside his chest turned into laughter

She grabbed the back of his shirt. "That sound. My God... just keep laughing, Puddin'. Don't ever stop, okay?"

"I have to," he said, even though he was still at it, "so I can do this..." He pulled away enough to kiss her, and only when his lips drew a soft moan from her mouth did he believe she was back.

Jackie gazed up at Steven a long time after the kiss ended. Joy dwelled in that face. Yes, she recognized happiness now in his silent expression. But so much of her own joy resided there, too. She reached up and let his hair tickle her palm. Her fingers smoothed over his forehead, down his sideburns. Her thumb ran over the stitches along his jawline. So that was what those were. Blind, she'd only guessed, but seeing the red thread woven into his skin brought back the feeling of his slick, limp body.

She shoved the memory away and rubbed her thumb over his lips. "I missed your face," she said. "I did my best to hold onto it inside my head, but nothing compares to the real thing. God, you're beautiful, Steven."

"You ain't bad-lookin' either," he said, smiling. His eyes were smiling at her, too, so blue and so wet.

"Steven are you..." she cupped his damp, stubbly cheeks, "are you crying?

"Sweat," he said. "My eyes are sweating. It's fucking hot in here.

"Aww!" Eric, Donna, and Fez all said together, and Donna continued the jibe in a cloying baby voice, "Your great love for Jackie has overwhelmed you to tears!"

Jackie turned and looked her up and down. Donna was wearing a rust-colored dress that complimented her skin, eyes, and hair. Too bad, but Jackie could work with it.

"Wow," Jackie said, "it's great being able to see again. Even Donna's tacky outfit, though offensive to my eyes, is nice to see. I mean, tassels? Really?"

"What?" Donna checked herself over and seemed to forget Steven's vulnerable state.

And he was vulnerable, which was why Jackie wouldn't allow Donna—or anyone—to burn him. The vulnerability was in his heart and body. He still couldn't hold her as strongly as she was used to. More of those red stitches lined his fingers, arms, and legs. She'd felt them when they'd made love, and a brown scab peeked from the cuff of his long sleeve. His wounds, as healed as they were, still had a ways to go.

She snuggled back into his arms, refusing to think about it anymore. He seemed content to let her do it and whispered, "I love you. Fuck, I love you..." The words poured from him unceasingly. It was strange but so wonderful to hear.

Michael, though, interrupted them. Something shiny was dangling from his thumb and forefinger. "I wonder how the curse'll affect Hyde," he said, "now that the ring's off."

He might as well have plunged Jackie a hundred feet into the ground. The ease with which she was breathing abandoned her. Pressure built up in her chest and mind, and she could no longer be sure of what she was seeing or hearing.

"Guess we'll find out," Steven might have said.

And Eric might have poked Steven's wet cheek. "I think we're already finding out."

Jackie wrenched herself from Steven's arms, "The ring," and dropped to her knees. "The ring, the ring." Tears gathered in her own eyes, blinding her, and she heard nothing but her own voice. "Oh, God. Steven, I didn't know where you were, and it felt like someone had cut out my heart, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..."

Her words broke down into hiccuped sobs. She had no idea where she was anymore, but soon gentle fingers were combing through her hair, stroking her cheeks, bringing her back.

"It's all right, Grasshopper. It's okay..."

Steven was crouched beside her. She eased her arms around his waist and pulled him completely to the floor. "It's my fault," she said between sobs. "You're going to get all ugly and blind or worse because I couldn't keep my weak fingers from—"

"Jackie—Jackie," he said, "I left you on purpose so you'd take that fucking ring off."

"You what?" She was already trembling, but now she shook from anger. "I can't even kick you I'm so pissed... Why, Steven?"

"Why the hell do you think?"

She held him tighter and wept harder. He hadn't wanted to lose her, but now she was going to lose him.

"I never wanna hear 'Jackie' and 'weak' said together again, okay?" His hands glided up her arms and down again. "If you were any stronger, I would've had to chop your finger off. Almost did."

Shame slithered down Jackie's throat like a snake, but the deed had been done. She'd removed the ring, and they couldn't go back. She stifled her tears. Crying wouldn't help them, but when she next spoke, her voice sounded as small as a mouse's. "What about you?"

"I don't know, but at least we got time to figure it out." He stood them both up, never breaking contact with her body. That was good because she couldn't take separation right now. "So..." he grabbed the ring from Kelso's fingers, "what should we do with this?"

"You have to keep it," Fez said. "The curse started with the ring. It must end with it."

"I'll hold onto it." Jackie swiped at the ring, but Hyde snatched it away.

"I don't think so. Forman?"

Eric took the ring without hesitation and closed his fingers over it. "I'll be like Frodo... wait. That's not a good thi—"

"You're entrusting Eric with our love?" Jackie said.

Steven shrugged. "He's my brother." Then the color drained from his face, as if he realized what he'd just admitted. "Fuck, uh..." he pumped his fist in the air, "my brother. Power to the people. Yo."

Forman covered his heart. "Hyde, you really feel that way? That I'm your broth—"

"Shut up, Forman."

"If he's your brother, who am I?" Kelso said.

But Jackie interrupted before Steven could answer. "Is that why you kept giving me to Eric?"

"Yeah," Steven said, and she dragged him a few feet to where Eric was standing.

"Keep your hand on my hip," she said and let Steven go. He did as she asked, and she embraced Eric with the first real hug she'd ever given him. "I trust you with our love, too," she whispered. "Don't mess it up." She kissed him on the cheek then ensconced herself deep in Steven's arms again.

"Damn! I'm nothing to no one!" Michael was staring at Fez, whose fingers were entwined with Big Rhonda's...

Big Rhonda? How had she gotten here? Jackie looked at Steven for an explanation, but he was responding to Michael.

"No, man, you got a kid who thinks you're cooler than Evel Knievel. You got me 'cause I woulda bailed on you a long time ago if I didn't—shit... shit."

"If you didn't shit?" Michael said, but Steven's fists had clenched, and he was grunting and swallowing.

"Steven?" Jackie cradled the side of his face. "What is it?"

"Jackie," he said through gritted teeth, "shove your tongue down my throat before I say anything else I'll regret."

She obliged and pressed her lips to his mouth. The kiss was deep, and he relaxed into her touch. His hands released their fists, and he cupped the back of her head.

Her legs buckled. To be this close to him with all her senses—the original five and the ones she'd developed while blind and deaf—overwhelmed her. Gratitude was in his kiss, but mostly it was filled with love.

"I know what's going on," Donna said once they parted. "Hyde can't lie."

Steven frowned. "Super..."

"Dude, I totally gotta try this out," Michael said, and Eric waved a, No, don't! at him.

Jackie laid a soft peck on Steven's still-frowning lips. What the curse was doing to him was more complex than forcing the truth from his mouth. It had bypassed his mental defenses, his Zen. It was making him connect to and express his feelings,but she wouldn't say that out loud. Better if their friends didn't know the subtleties, not yet. He had his pride, and the curse was sure to steal that from him, too, and a lot more before it was done.


	48. Hyde's Serenade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 48  
 **HYDE'S SERENADE**  


On the pebbled trail back to the castle, Hyde lifted Jackie up and twirled her around until his wounds made him put her back down. The pain was bearable—hell, anything was bearable now that Jackie was free of that ring. His strength, though, could've been better. The wolves had done a number on him, but revenge wasn't on his mind. Just Jackie, healthy and freakin' whole.

She didn't smile at him when her feet touched the ground. Her fingers smoothed the collar of his cotton shirt, a habit of hers that usually annoyed him but not now. He chuckled at how quickly her default behavior was returning. She'd be back to her old self in no time, and he couldn't complain about that.

"You shouldn't be so happy, Steven," she said and clung to his arm. She nodded at Forman and Donna, who were walking in ahead of them; then she pointed to Kelso, Fez, and Rhonda, whose boots crunched behind them on the pebbles. "They're all morose, and I don't know why, but that's how you should be. The curse is on _you_ now. It's gonna tear you to shreds like the wolves did—"

"Don't give a shit. You're okay, doll. That's all I care about."

"Steven—"

"We got time."

She frowned. "Yeah, but how much?"

Fez whistled several yards from the castle's back entrance, and everyone turned to look at him. They seemed to be out of earshot of the guards. "Jackie," he said, "you have been out of the loop a while. Eric, if you would begin?"

Forman swallowed, and Donna squeezed his hand. He glanced down at the pebble trail before meeting Jackie's eyes, and he said, "I'm a—a wolf, I guess."

"What?" Jackie broke into laughter, throwing her head back and cackling. She clutched Hyde's arm, a little too tightly, and when she got a decent enough hold on herself, she said, "And Donna's Thumbelina."

Forman couldn't seem to answer, but Donna stepped in. "No, it's true. Just like Fez is Snow White's grandson, Eric is Little Red Riding Hood's grandson, and—"

Jackie pressed her forehead against Hyde's chest as another burst of laughter hit her. "Ste—Steven, did you set this up? You—you wanted to cheer me up after everything?"

Hyde held onto her back, which was bouncing with her laughs. He desperately wanted her stay in that moment, to give her a few damn moments of joy, but his loyalty to Forman wouldn't let him. "No one's jokin' around," he said.

Jackie looked up at him with eyes wet from amusement. "P—please. Eric doesn't have enough body hair to be—" Her expression froze. The keen mind Hyde had helped sharpen began to make connections. He knew the signs. Her lips went from stiff to mouthing partial thoughts. Her eyes narrowed. Then she said, "That's why he's been so different. Stronger, bigger—"

Hyde nodded. "Bingo."

Forman had walked off a few feet, head bowed, hands plunged deep in his pants' pockets. He was going through hell, man, so Hyde—along with everyone else—filled Jackie in on the rest. How Bernice Forman had originally come from the Second Kingdom, her relationship with the Big Bad Wolf. About Penny being the third Queen Riding Hood and the prime suspect in Queen Gretel's murder.

"The wolves are uniting against her," Fez said. "They think Penny killed Gretel to gain control over the whole Second Kingdom—and to expel wolves from living here."

"Which will deprive them of any home anywhere," Donna added.

"That's why Forman's gotta go spy on her," Hyde said. "Family and... obligations... and... Forman bein' the good guy he is..." His eyes shut. His freakin' mouth was doing it again, letting loose private crap that should've stayed where he'd stashed it. "And we gotta go with him."

Jackie clutched Hyde's arm tighter, making him wince. "Of course we do," she said. "He's got our ring, and Penny wants it. She was way too curious about it at Donna and Eric's wedding. She has to know the ring's cursed."

"Either way, I'll find out," Forman said. He'd finally returned to the group and was standing up straight, hands out of his pockets. "Grayhead said the ring has a lot of power, and that's why the wolves want it. My cousin would want the ring for herself. It makes sense."

"Grayhead?" Jackie loosened her grip on Hyde's arm and stepped closer to Forman. "The wolf who grabbed me in the Naked Emperor's palace said Grayhead wanted to meet me."

"Yeah, turns out he's the head of a radical wolf faction," Forman said, and he told her everything he'd learned from Grayhead—how Penny's mother burned wolves from the forest, that wolves refused to harm other wolves. But once he got to the part where Hyde's bloodied body was brought in, Jackie stopped him.

"I can't—I can't go through that again," she said breathlessly. She pressed herself against Hyde's body, as if she wanted to burrow herself inside him, and he closed his arms around her protectively.

Everyone moved toward the castle again, but Jackie's fists remained twisted in Hyde's shirt. All that information must have unsettled her, especially so soon after regaining her senses. Plus, she had to be starving. It was lunch time, and she barely had any food in her.

Hyde risked carrying her, willing his legs to remain steady despite the burning pain. Her arms looped around his neck, but she was fighting tears, keeping her mouth clamped tight and breathing through her nose.

Rhonda clapped Jackie's shoulder. "Hey, Burkhart," she said and snorted a laugh, "I'll tell you how I got to be here. That's a fun story."

"She wrestled a bear," Hyde said, and that perked Jackie right up.

* * *

A savory-smelling feast was waiting for them in the dining room. No attendants were present, just Miss Muffet. Her plump, rosy cheeks were pushed into a warm smile, and Hyde whispered to Jackie that she was the Lord Chancellor. His attention was mainly on the food, though. He served himself a plate of honey-glazed game hen, a side of green beans, and roasted potatoes. Any celebration needed good grub, but Jackie didn't seem in a celebratory mood.

"We're okay, Grasshopper," he said and piled up a plate for her. When she still didn't go for her silverware, he sighed. "Look, we'll focus on the curse tomorrow. Give yourself a day off, all right? You've earned it."

"We might not _have_ a tomorrow, Steven!"

Miss Muffet cleared her throat loudly, like an alarm call. "My boy," she said, "do you have the ring?

Hyde reflexively looked at Jackie's left hand. "What? Oh, right... Forman?"

Forman was sitting across from him. He pulled the ring from his pocket and passed it to Miss Muffet. She closed her fingers around it and inhaled deeply. "Whoever cursed you," she said, "has a vendetta against you personally, Mr. Hyde."

Hyde's stomach clenched. That ruled out... not a lot of people. "Great."

"The curse's intention is to end true love everywhere," she continued, "and there is much glee surrounding the choice of using you and your beloved for this aim. But..." her fist began to shake, "but it's two, not one. Two for hatred, one for—for love."

The stink of burnt flesh rose from her hand. Fez was sitting next to her as usual, and he said, "Miss Muffet, let go of the ring." But she held onto it, rambling on about two, not one, and he clapped his hands once. "I said, "Drop it!"

Her fingers sprang open, and the ring clinked onto her plate. Blisters bubbled on the red, angry skin of her palm.

"Ai, it has burnt you." Fez took some of those long, spiky butter leaves from a belt pouch and rubbed them on her hand. The blisters melted away, leaving undamaged pink skin in their stead. "What did you mean, 'Two, not one'?"

Miss Muffet kissed the top of Fez's head. "Thank you... and I'm unsure. Sometimes a half-glimpsed insight is more dangerous than no insight at all. It's best not to speculate." She took a few moments to collect herself, and Forman reached toward her plate.

He gingerly grasped the ring between his thumb forefinger. "It's not burning me," he said and stuffed it back into his pocket.

"But it might," Donna said.

"Doubtful." Miss Muffet ran her fingers through her gray hair, as if it would steady her nerves. Hyde had watched Jackie do the same thing many times. Hell, he did it himself more than he liked to admit. "Mr. Hyde and Ms. Burkhart have clearly entrusted the ring to Mr. Forman," Miss Muffet said. "Unless Mr. Forman himself entrusts another to carry that load, the ring is only his to touch."

Donna didn't seem to like that news, but Hyde sure did. It meant wolves couldn't get their grubby paws on the ring—and neither could troublemaking cousins.

"Who would want revenge against Steven?" Jackie said. "He's perfect... especially because he has _me._ "

"Yeah, and your thinking is cursed," Hyde said. He was far from perfect, and she used to remind him of that on a daily basis, at least during their first year together. After that, her complaints about him mostly dried up—except for his inability to commit.

But now his life made little sense without her. She'd become as much a part of him as his blood, man. The curse might eventually bring him to his knees, but he'd never betray her to save himself. Death would come first.

* * *

Kelso watched enviously as all the couples ate together. Hyde had finally convinced Jackie to do more than pick at her game hen. He even coaxed a few giggles out of her by failing to make an origami candy cane from his napkin. They were very much a couple in love—eyes only for each other, secret touches above and below the table, and a soft way of speaking Kelso had never experienced with anyone... except maybe his kid. But that wasn't romantic. That was father-daughter stuff.

He moved his attention to Fez and Rhonda. They were feeding each other chunks of meat and calling each other cutesy names as they did it. _Gross._

"So when is this Candy-and-Pie shindig gonna start, Coco Puff?" Rhonda said, and she tossed a pea into Fez's mouth.

"Tomorrow. The judges have all been chosen. I sent the letters out yesterday, and I've chosen myself to represent the Fourth Kingdom at the judge's table." Fez lobbed a roasted potato at Rhonda's face, and she caught it in her teeth. "Usually, sovereigns don't judge because of the potential for poisonings. What better, cruel way to assassinate a queen or king? But I'm willing to take that risk. There is already tight security in Gingerbread Town. And..." he rubbed the top of Rhonda's hand, "'I'll have my Mashed Potato to protect me."

"Hey, what about me?" Kelso said.

"You took an oath to protect Hyde and Jackie," Fez said. "Huge crowds at the Pie and Candy Expo mean wolves can slip in unnoticed. You need to guard them from that threat."

Donna's fork clattered to her plate. "What about Eric? He's the one carrying the ring now. Shouldn't he get some protection, too?"

"His very nature protects him," Miss Muffet said. "Wolves won't harm him, but the guards have been made well aware of the wolf threat."

"We've heard that before," Hyde said. He seemed to forget about his meal and slid his arm around Jackie's shoulders. "Didn't turn out too well for those acrobats in the Naked Emperor's palace."

"That will _not_ happen here." Fez's voice was resolute, more like a king than a friend, and Kelso believed him. Sure, Fez got distracted sometimes. But when kingdom duty called, he became very focused, like a nudie mag had been shoved in his face. Kelso had been witness to that fact over the last year, not Rhonda. He'd also been the one sacrificing time with his daughter to protect Fez. Why couldn't Fez remember?

Kelso's appetite shrank as Fez rewarded Rhonda with more cuddles and mouthfuls of game hen. He didn't want Fez's romantic attention—that was the last thing he wanted—but he could've used some _friendly_ attention from him. But he'd have no luck getting it as long as Rhonda was around.

"So what kind of 'training' do you think Wolf is going to give you?" Donna said to Eric. She cupped sides of his face and pressed her forehead against his. "Do you think it'll be something dirty?" she whispered. "Like wolfy-style with your mate?"

"Donna!" Eric laughed and moved in for a kiss, and Kelso looked away from them. No one needed to hear about that stuff—unless it was _Kelso's_ stuff, but Kelso didn't know if he'd ever have stuff again.

His gaze meandered along the decorations of the dining room—the sugar-crystal chandeliers, the fluffy cotton-candy window treatments—and eventually settled back onto Hyde and Jackie. They'd angled their chairs toward each other after the main course, but their discussion had nothing to do with waiting for dessert.

Jackie stroked Hyde's knuckles and said, "Baby, I love your fingers. They're so long but masculine. Usually long fingers on a man look feminine, but yours definitely don't. Maybe because they're thick, too, and your palm is in proportion to them. And your nails aren't narrow like a woman's but perfectly..."

Kelso examined his own fingers. They were long, too, but Jackie had never complimented them.

He stared at her and Hyde again. She'd moved on from Hyde's hands and ran her thumb along one of his eyelashes. He didn't appear bothered by it. In fact, he seemed to enjoy her touch. Worse, he smiled when Jackie said, "Your lashes are still blonde! But your hair's gotten so dark since we first met—" and it made Kelso sick. The curse had turned Hyde all gaga-romantic. Maybe he had butterflies knocking against his skull, too.

Attendants finally brought dessert, a cherry-chocolate cake called a budino. The couples all left afterward, but Kelso hung back. Miss Muffet remained in the dining room, too, as if she could sense his questions. As always, her dark gray hair was braided. A blue barrette clasped it at the nape of her neck. He wondered what she'd look like with her hair all loose. She'd probably been hot in her day.

"Miss Muffet," he said, "you're supposed to be all insightful, right? Well, I could use some insight about myself. 'Cause I used to love sex, but then I had a bunch of it at once—and now I don't wanna have it anymore. Like, it got boring," he shook his head, "and that makes no sense. Because how could sex be boring? Especially if I'm the one having it?"

Miss Muffet studied him up and down before speaking. Her eyes seemed to peer through his skin. "Oh, I believe you still love sex," she said, "but no longer for its own sake. It can be so much more than what you've made it, and your heart is craving something deeper."

"That's what Hyde said, but all I feel in my heart are these annoying wings flappin' and flappin' until I don't know which way is which."

"That's because you're in love, my dear boy!"

"With you?"

Miss Muffet let out a guffaw. "No."

Kelso peeked outside the dining room. "With Jackie?"

"I cannot answer that for you."

"With..." he lowered his voice, "with Fez?"

She let out another guffaw. "When you're ready for the joys and responsibilities of being in love, your heart will let you know who."

"Responsibilities? No, no I don't want any more of those. I've got enough responsibilities being Fez's Captain of the Guard."

"Sir Kelso," Miss Muffet held his hand gently, "you've paid your dues for the hurt you caused in this life. You've become someone your daughter can be proud of—no longer a boy who sacrifices others to fulfill his own needs, but a man willing to sacrifice himself for the sake of others."

The back of Kelso's neck grew hot. Her words brought him back to Fez's castle, during the awards ceremony almost nine months ago. Fez had pinned a medal on Kelso's lapel and claimed him "heroically transformed".

"I don't feel like a hero," Kelso said now. "I feel like a coward because all I wanna do is jump through the mirror and..." He clenched his jaw. The rest was too craven to speak out. "Forget it."

"But you haven't returned home," Miss Muffet said. "You're still here, fighting by your friends' side and seeing things through. If that's not the mark of valor, if that's not something worthy of love, I don't know what is."

Kelso began to ask something else, but Miss Muffet cut him off as if she'd already heard the question. The lady was spooky, but not in a bad way.

"Eventually," she said, "a time may come where choosing yourself will be the right decision—where more lives will be saved by that choice than by a different one. Needless sacrifices are just that: needless."

"How am I supposed to know when that time is?" Kelso was shouting. He wished he had a crib sheet, but life didn't come with those. "How do I know I'm not making the wrong choice? And screwing everyone over?"

"When it is the toughest choice to make, you will know," Miss Muffet said and pulled her hair free from its clasp. She undid her braid. Then she bent over and shook her hair out. Her face was flushed when she straightened up and framed by dark gray waves.

Kelso grinned. "Yeah, you were a little hottie, weren't you?"

She grinned back. "Still am."

* * *

Jackie missed her blindness. Not really, but the royal wing of Gretel's castle was horrific. The tacky color scheme stung her eyes. A powder-blue carpet lined the hallway and rainbow candlelight shone from the walls. Whoever decorated this place should've been shot...

_Whoever decorated this place should've been shot?_ Her eyes widened at the thought, and she withdrew it. No one should be murdered because of bad taste. She knew better. After everything she'd been through, a carelessly tossed-off judgment like that seemed so petty.

Steven opened the door to their room, and the décor didn't improve. The powder-blue carpet covered every inch of the floor, but at least it was soft. The shelves were candy-striped and filled with jars of peppermints, candy corns, ribbon candy—Fez's dream come true.

"Everything's edible in here," Steven said. His hand hadn't left her waist, and she was grateful. She couldn't bear being without his touch right now.

"Really? This town must be full of..." _fatsos,_ she was going to say, but she'd been one of them less than three hours ago. All that weight had been a tough burden to carry, literally and emotionally. Whatever drove a person to living that way didn't deserve contempt. Not all curses came from a ring.

"Jackie?" Steven pushed some of her hair from her eyes. "You're thinking."

"How did you know that?" she said

"Got used to reading your face when you couldn't speak anymore."

"Oh." She took the jar of peppermints off the shelf and opened it. The sweet, minty scent wasn't her favorite, but at least she could smell. "I'm scaring myself."

"How?"

"My thoughts. Whenever I think something I'd normally think, a different thought takes over, a _kinder_ one."

"Could be the curse," he said. "Residual effect or something."

"No." She placed the peppermint jar back on the shelf. "It's more like when we first started dating. You kept challenging me—the way I saw things—and then I saw things differently."

Steven chuckled, "Not everything," and took her hand. The heat between their palms comforted her. "And you did the same to me, so we're even."

"I want to be a bitch, Steven. It's who I am."

"Bullshit," he said and squeezed her hand gently. "Yeah... I used to think the same thing about you, but you proved me wrong a long time ago."

_When?_ The question pounded on her chest. _When did I prove you wrong?_ But she couldn't ask it—because asking would mean taking advantage of him. He was vulnerable now thanks to the curse. He probably hadn't meant to reveal the last few things he'd told her, either.

"You need to make a list," she said instead, "of everyone you think might want revenge on you."

"Edna," he said. "My aunt Phyllis—"

"No, you have to write it down."

Against the wall was a rolltop desk, the only classy thing in the room besides herself. She dragged him to it, and inside the tambour they found a quill, ink, and paper. He sat down at the desk's elegantly sculpted chair and began to write. This couldn't have been his first choice of activities, especially now that she had her senses back. But as a consolation, she rubbed his back while he wrote.

The topography of his wounds was evident through his shirt. She was careful not to abrade them, but their rough texture turned slick in her memory. The metallic smell of his blood saturated her lungs, and panic rose in her chest, but she had the presence of mind to grasp his left hand. His skin was warm, and blood didn't spill freely from him. He was solid, not liquid.

"Why did you call me what you called me in the cottage?" she said. A cruel thing to ask when he couldn't help but answer, but her senses remained with his dying body. She had to free herself from those memories.

"What? 'Sunlight'?" He laughed nervously and didn't look up from his list.

"Yes, that one." She should have dropped it, given him a way out. "Why did you call me that?"

He stopped writing and grew silent. He couldn't have wanted to tell her, but the answer pushed its way out of him. "Fits you better than the old name."

She bit down her next question: _Why?_ He would've told her if she asked. The curse would've forced him, but she pressed a kiss into his temple and said, "I like it."

"Yeah?" He shifted his position on the chair and faced her. "I like you."

She flashed him a teasing smile. "Just 'like'?"

"A lot more than that." He stood up and began kissing her neck. She giggled happily, shutting out all but the taste of his body, the heat of his voice against her cheek. "Everything in this room is edible," he said and moved them to the bed, "including us."

He pulled off his shirt, revealing more of himself than she'd seen in too long. Brown scabs riddled his chest and arms, and some were bigger than his fist. One took up half his stomach, another his entire left shoulder. Red stitches were woven among the scabs like railroad tracks, and each wound was a stop along the way. His back must have looked the same.

She reached toward the smallest of the scabs. It lay beneath his collar bone, and she touched it delicately. "What those wolves did to you... they tried to eat you alive."

He placed a finger beneath her chin and lifted her gaze. "They _did_ eat me alive _,_ but..." His mouth shut, and the stitches lining his jaw pulsed. He had to be fighting some kind of internal battle. " _You,_ man," he said. "Lovin' you kept me from kicking the bucket when I was bleeding in the dirt. You lovin' me... I should be dead."

Sunshine poured in from the window and gleamed in his eyes. They weren't wet enough for tears, but whatever he was thinking—whatever he was _feeling—_ had pushed him to a place she knew he never wanted to go. The curse had stolen his defenses, and she had to help him.

"No, you shouldn't be dead. Not when you have so much to live for... like _me._ " She unbuttoned her blouse and exposed her breasts. "Go ahead, Steven. Taste them."

And he did. His mouth devoured every inch of her before they made love. He gave her time to get used to him again with all her senses. The sound of his joy wasn't lost as his hair tickled her cheek, nor was the sight of his adoring smile as he entered her. Their movements together weren't frantic or desperate, and as her pleasure increased, so did her astonishment.

Her name left his throat repeatedly, thick with love, and following a grunt of effort, he let out a confession: "You changed everything... for me. No goin' back."

She gasped her own confession as her muscles clenched around him. Then she sunk helplessly into the ecstasy of his existence.

* * *

Hyde supported himself on his arms and kept his face above Jackie's. Her hair was sprawled on the pillow, a mess well-earned. Her skin was flushed from effort, and her chest rose and fell enticingly. The image of his chick post-sex made him want to do it all over again, but her fingers combed through his damp hair and lulled him into a kind of peace.

"I can't believe you're mine," she said softly. It was a repeat of her screamed climax-confession, but she grinned impishly and added, "Blue Sky."

He chuckled. "What?"

"If you can give me a new pet name, I can give you one."

"But fuckin' 'Blue Sky?'" he said and knew he sounded like an asshole. "'Puddin' Pop' is bad enough."

He expected a violent retaliation, maybe a hit to one of his wounds, but she traced the bridge of his nose. "It makes perfect sense, Steven." Then her voice melted into romantic, dreamy goo, "'Sunlight and the Blue Sky...'"

Her eyes followed her voice into whatever far-off land it had traveled. He waited a moment then brought her back. "Jackie—"

She gasped. "Oh, my God—we could form our own music group, like The Captain and Tenille! Baby, we have to learn how to sing."

Hyde tried to hold on, but he exploded into crashing waves of laughter. Fortunately, Jackie was laughing just as hard. The pain in his body had decreased to a dull ache after they both climaxed, but now he felt no pain at all.

_No,_ that was a lie. His stomach hurt, but in a good way, man, from laughing against Jackie's equally bouncing stomach. His cheeks hurt from smiling so damn much, and the moment reminded him of their first Thanksgiving together. They'd sat on the Formans' carpeted steps with two stolen beers. She'd made him laugh until his ribs and shoulders ached, and a fleeting thought had shot through his brain—that maybe this was what happiness felt like.

The same thing was happening now in Gretel's castle, only this time he was sure happiness felt like this. He collapsed beside Jackie on the bed. "Our own music group?"

"Mm-hmm." She crawled over his body and pecked his lips. "You can learn how to play the tambourine," she said and kissed him deeply, before another wave of laughter crested through him...

But that wave deposited him in a strange place. He noticed the smells first, floral perfume and pine. Then something soft rubbed his wrist—the fur of Jackie's coat collar. She was no longer naked, and neither was he. They were sitting in her father's Lincoln, parked in the Point Place mall's parking lot. How the hell had they gotten there? Why did she look so much younger?

She lunged for him. Her cold hands captured his cheeks, and her tear-moistened lips pushed against his unprepared ones. Fear rose up in him instead of joy, and he shoved her off. Jackie wasn't supposed to be kissing him, man, not _him._

"Look, Jackie," he found himself saying, "you're rebounding. Deep down, you know you don't really want to be with me. Come on, it's me. You hate me."

"Steven?" Jackie said, but her lips had formed different words: _"That might not be true."_ And then gentle fingers brushed through his hair—felt like hers—but her hands were clasped together on her lap.  
His eyes shut, and he grunted bizarrely.

"Steven, what's wrong?" Jackie's concern forced his eyes back open. He was lying beside her again on the bed, back in their room at Gretel's castle. "What happened?"

"Nothin'. Just... remembering something." But it had been more than a memory. He'd physically and emotionally re-experienced that moment—his panic as Jackie kissed him, the pity he felt... _Fuck,_ he _had_ felt pity for her once, but compassion eventually took over. She'd made some lousy choices, namely Kelso. Just like when Edna had chosen Bud.

"'Sunlight and the Blue Sky,' huh?" Hyde said. He hoped to deter her from an interrogation. Dozens of questions were plastered on her face—in her furrowed brow, on her slightly parted lips—and he'd have no choice but to answer them, thanks to the curse. "You know our sound's gonna be hard rock, right? None of that schmaltzy love-song crap."

"Fine," she said, and her face relaxed. "We'll have alter-egos when we sing about our beautiful love. You'll be Puddin' Pop—"

"No way."

"And I'll be..." She wrinkled her nose. "No, 'Grasshopper' is an icky bug."

"Thought you liked that name."

"I love it, but it's still a bug with antennae. No, I'll go with the other one."

"'Sunlight'?"

Jackie huffed. "No, the other name you call me. You have three now."

Hyde didn't answer. He had no idea what she was talking about.

" _'Doll,'_ Steven. You always call me that. It's one of my favorite things. Because the first time you said it was the first time I really knew you cared about me."

"Right." He remembered now. In fact, he'd said it to her in the Lincoln, a little while after she'd kissed him. "Anything for you, d—" his voice caught, but he tried again, "d—"

"Shy all of a sudden?" She giggled, but he wasn't laughing.

He jammed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, but the word refused to be formed. Not because of his will. He wanted to say it. The word had been erased from his throat.


	49. Poison Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 49  
 **POISON HEART**

Kelso awoke with a pounding headache. Trumpets were blasting in his ears, playing a royal flourish. He pressed his pillow over his head, but a wet finger squeezed past the pillowcase and into his ear.

"Hey!" he shouted. He let go of the pillow and hit the offending finger away. "No more 'royal wet willies'! How many times have I told you that, man?"

"But today is a special day!" Fez said.

He was standing a foot from Kelso's bed and outfitted in full Fourth-Kingdom regalia—white military uniform, gold epaulets, and a rapier slung at his side. His sash said, "JUDGE" on it, but he was also the _de facto_ sovereign of Gretel's kingdom. A badge on his lapel represented this status, a golden candy cane topped with a crown.

"I have lots of important, delicious work to do at the Candy and Pie Expo," Fez continued, "and you must be at your best."

Two trumpeters on either side of him played another flourish, giving Fez's words their own soundtrack. They stopped only when Fez clapped once, and an attendant stepped forward with what looked like Kelso's lost Captain-of-the-Guard uniform.

Fez waved his hand over the outfit. "I had the royal tailor make that for you. You've also been issued new rank badges. You're as good as new, my friend."

Kelso wiped gritty bits of sleep from his eyes and glanced out the window. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon. "Yay... I'll see you in a few hours."

"No, I will see you now, dressed and ready to perform your duty."

The trumpeters blasted out yet another flourish, an angry one. And it didn't stop until Kelso stumbled out of bed.

"Fine!" he said and grabbed his uniform from the attendant. "What about breakfast?"

"No," Fez said. "No breakfast. You will need as much room in your stomach as you can handle. I can't let you miss out on all the delectable delights the Nine Kingdoms have to offer."

"Yeah, okay..." Kelso gestured toward the door, "lemme get ready."

Fez nodded, and the trumpeters played him out—but the music trilled into the room even after the attendant shut the door behind him.

"I miss aspirin," Kelso said and clutched his throbbing skull.

* * *

Outside the castle and in the mild breeze, Kelso felt better. Having his uniform and badges back was nice, but the rapier hanging from his belt and the two pouches of Wolfsbane were nicer. He had enough of the blue pellets to take out a hundred wolves if he had to. But with all the incredible food smells in the air, maybe the wolves wouldn't pick up the scents of his friends.

Gingerbread Town was packed with citizens from all over the Nine Kingdoms—humans and goblins and even tiny, glowing fairies. The Candy and Pie Expo sprawled out from the Square into the surrounding neighborhoods. The streets were filled with tables claiming the best rhubarb pie or chocolate truffle. Bakers and candy-makers from the Troll, Elf, and Dwarf kingdoms had added magic to their offerings. Nearby, Elven carrot cakes sparkled with light. Kelso was curious about their taste, but Hyde steered Jackie clear of them.

She plumped out her bottom lip in a pout, and Hyde said, "Haven't you had enough magic?"

"It's food, Steven. What harm could it do?"

"Lots. That cake could make you feel like this, for instance." He picked her up and spun her around. He seemed to have no problem with the effort, unlike yesterday. The red stitches along his jawline were absorbing into his skin, too. He was doing a lot better, and Kelso should've been happy about it, but the sight of Hyde twirling Jackie put him in a foul mood.

She giggled as Hyde put her down, and she grabbed onto his arm. "Dizzy?" he said.

"Yes, you jerk!" she said, but she was still giggling.

Kelso scowled, and his bad mood worsened when trumpets signaled Fez's presence. Fez and Rhonda were at a Troll's table, feeding each other some kind of quiche. Fez laughed as a chunk of meat missed his lips and bounced off his chin, and Kelso's fists clenched.

"That should be me laughin' and being fed," he muttered, but a curtain of red hair soon blocked Fez and Rhonda from his eyes.

It was Donna. She turned to face him, and her hair whipped against his cheek. "Kelso, _are_ you in love with Fez?"

"No, but _someone_ should be feeding me food."

"Didn't we have this discussion once?" Eric said. He'd joined them from somewhere and wiped bacon crumbs from his lips. "Move back in with your parents. I'm sure your mom'll feed you."

Kelso knew the conversation Eric meant. Fez had been a dog then. "My mom might feed me," Kelso said now, "but she wouldn't be laughing with me, too, _Eric._ "

Eric smirked. "Fine. I'll throw food in your face and laugh _at_ you if you want."

"Oh, me, too," Donna said. She was grinning, but Kelso looked past her to the shops on the street.

Next to a Candy Cane Specialty Store was something called Truffle Tavern. Yeah, that sounded right. Jackie and Hyde were safe for now. They both had their own pouches of Wolfsbane, and Second Kingdom soldiers were everywhere, armed with Wolfsbane, too. Eric was carrying the ring, and wolves wouldn't hurt him, so...

Kelso could slip off for a an hour or two and try to lift his mood. Or, at least, numb himself from it.

He headed for the tavern, but Eric gripped his arm. Kelso couldn't move forward, and— _damn—_ had being a wolf had made Eric strong.

"Whoa there, buddy," Eric said, "the sun's barely over the horizon. Too early for drinks, don't you think? And what about your duty to Hyde and Jackie?"

"Hyde and Jackie are fine," Kelso said. "Wolves won't attack them in a place as guarded as this... and it's night somewhere."

"Okay, then," Eric released Kelso's arm, "but we're coming with you."

Fortunately, the tavern was open and serving drinks. It was relatively empty, too except for the Second Kingdom soldiers standing guard. Kelso's first drink tasted like a chocolate chip cookie, but the kick of alcohol burned his throat. Two more drinks later, and he was babbling to Eric and Donna like the kind of chicks he hated doin' it with.

"Sure, Jackie and Hyde are under a horrible curse," he said, "but at least they're under it together. Why can't I be cursed with someone I'm in love with, huh? Why does Hyde always catch the best breaks?"

Donna patted his back and pulled his half-empty glass of chocolate rum away from him. "I don't know, but you've had enou—"

"Stab a Kelso!" bellowed a deep, craggy voice.

Kelso glanced behind him. Three Trolls had entered the tavern, and he had a zillion jokes that started that way, but one of the Trolls wore a "JUDGE" sash. Getting into a fight with them wouldn't be good for Fourth-Kingdom-Troll-Nation relations.

The Trolls, though, didn't seem to care. They lumbered up to him, hands on the hilts of their various weapons. The Candy and Pie Expo judge sneered toothily at him and said, "I can't believe a meatless sack like you defeated our great sovereigns in battle."

"Believe it," Kelso said, "and my sack's full of meat. Just ask any of the chicks I've nailed."

Eric stood from the bar and pressed himself between Kelso and the Troll judge. "Look, we don't want any trou—"

The Troll's knobby fingers grasped Eric's shirt and hurled him across the tavern. Eric sailed through the air then crashed into a table.

"Eric!" Donna rushed to his side as Second Kingdom soldiers swarmed the bar. They were all chicks, but they outnumbered the Trolls three-to-one—and gave the Trolls a choice: play nice or be disqualified from the Expo.

The Trolls grumbled but moved on to a table, and they kept their glowers off Kelso. The Second Kingdom soldiers moved on, too, except for one whose red hair peeked from beneath her helmet. She touched Kelso's shoulder and said, "That's the judge from the Troll Nation you almost got into a tussle with."

"Don't care." Kelso clutched his chocolate rum. "I'm sick of people trying to kill me."

The soldier gave him a friendly smile. "Who isn't?"

"You've had people trying to kill you, too?" He followed her smile down to her chainmail-covered breasts. "But you're hot!"

"Yes, wearing armor gets uncomfortable and sweaty, but I'm about to go off my shift. I've been up all night... and could use some company."

Kelso jumped off his barstool. The chick had wet her lips as she spoke— _yeah,_ she wanted him. And to his surprise and relief, he found himself wanting her back. "I'm company," he said.

He offered her his arm, and she took it. They walked past the Trolls' table without incident and approached the spot where Eric had been thrown.

Eric seemed okay now. Better than okay, in fact. He and Donna were uprighting the overturned table and chairs, and he said, "It was just like in _Star Wars,_ Donna! When Ponda Baba flung Luke across the Cantina."

Kelso tried to sneak past them, but Donna grabbed his elbow. Her grip was almost as strong as Eric's. "Hey," she said, "where're you going?"

"To have some fun." Kelso winked at his redheaded soldier-chick. He didn't even know her name, but who cared? "I've earned it," he said and brought her to the tavern door. "I'll be back for the judging... maybe."

* * *

According to the clock tower in the town square, it was two in the afternoon. The judges, including Fez, had chosen finalists for each Expo category: Soup, Meat, Pie, and Candy. On a platform—high above everyone in the Square—was the judges' table. Fez's personal trumpeters joined a band of seven others, and their fanfares accompanied the announcement of each judge to the table.

A pair of Ugly Stepsisters from the First Kingdom sat down first. They were voting as one unit so it would be fair. Penny's half of the Second Kingdom, however, did not enter the Expo. Fez had extended an invitation, but Penny declined.

Following the Ugly Stepsisters was the southern Second Kingdom judge. She was an elderly woman who'd brought her knitting needles with her. The burly Troll Nation judge sat next to her, and Fez was announced next.

The band finished its fanfare for him, but Fez's personal trumpeters continued playing. Fez thanked them, which inspired a fresh new fanfare. "I said, "Thank you,'" he repeated, only to bring forth a third fanfare.

"He said, 'Knock it off!" Rhonda shouted, and the trumpeters finally grew silent. She'd remained by Fez's side all day, and she stood behind him now as he sat at the table.

Benedick arrived on stage to represent the Fifth Kingdom. Fez had invited him to judge as a way of ending to their feud, but the animosity between them would probably always exist. Benedick was wearing a loincloth—apparently, out of respect for the Second Kingdom's public mores—and he acknowledged Fez with a quick bow before sitting. Fez was still King, after all, and Benedick was only a duke.

The Sixth Kingdom judge came to the table next. He'd been off in another kingdom when the sleeping spell hit his realm, but like Calandra during the Council of the Nine, he yawned a lot.

The Elf judge was announced, and his butterfly-like wings brushed past the Troll judge's face. The Troll growled but, to Fez's relief, did nothing more. The hatred between Trolls and Elves stretched far back into the past, before written records were kept. The origins of that hatred weren't known, but they could be glimpsed in ancient songs.

Soldiers flanked the judging table, a necessary safeguard with the Trolls joining the expo. No matter how well the food tasted, the Troll and Elf judges would likely give low scores to each other's realms. But the lowest and highest scores wouldn't count anyway, to prevent favoritism. Another necessary safeguard.

The last two judges were the icicle-laden Frostine from the Eighth Kingdom and the deep-voiced Alpin from the Dwarf Kingdom. Frostine's presence chilled the table, but the other judges had been warned to dress warmly.

Fez stood up after the band's final fanfare. He reminded the crowd of the Expo's prizes, including seeds that could grow candy in even the harshest of environments. The Trolls desperately wanted that prize for their kingdom, and Fez understood why. Eating only beanstalks and beanstalk-fed cattle had to be aggravating. No wonder the Trolls were so cranky.

Fez surveyed the town square before sitting back down and spotted his friends. Jackie and Hyde were making out against a candy-striped pillar. Eric had a giant turkey leg in his hand, and Donna seemed to be on guard, glancing around the packed Square as if wolves would strike. Kelso, though, was fiddling with his white jacket sleeves. He made a face, like something had stung him, and tore the jacket off.

"Ai, Kelso..." Fez whispered. He should've invited Kelso to partner with Rhonda and guard him, but he didn't want to offend his fellow judges. Each of them had only one personal guard, but a king could've been given special allowances. He'd have to make it up to Kelso later.

Sexy women clad in southern Second-Kingdom brown had arrived at the table, and they brought the contenders for Best Soup. Fez's teeth chattered while he ate the Eighth Kingdom's offering, a cold and tangy beet soup. The Troll Nation's spicy and chunky beef stew, however, warmed him right up. All nine soups were tasted in turn, and the scores were tallied by the Official Scorekeeper. The winners, though, wouldn't be announced until evening.

Fifteen minutes of light conversation passed the time between competitions and gave the judges' stomachs a chance to recover. Best Meat was next, and none of the Kingdoms disappointed. That particular contest would be a close one. Another fifteen minutes passed, and Fez's second favorite competition was up: Best Pie.

Flavors such as guava cream and lavender-infused chocolate made him forget he was a judge. Rhonda had to remind him to give his scores. The Fifth Kingdom's offering was particularly intriguing—a sweet-pea and vanilla combination he'd never tasted before. He ate his slice down to the crumbs, and he gathered those crumbs with his fork to eat. But a heavy _thud!_ vibrated the table and knocked the fork from his hand.

A loud gasp burst in the air. "Rouse him, rouse him!" people shouted from the Square, and Fez looked to his left. The Troll judge was seated next to him. His thick upper body had crashed onto the table, and his face was mashed in his pie. At first glance, he appeared to be eating enthusiastically, but dark bubbles drifted from his twitching mouth. They popped above the table and splattered remnants of the poison he must have swallowed.

Gray-haired doctors rushed to the judges' stage with their young nurses. In moments, they pronounced the Troll judge dead.

"Suck an Elf!" The Troll judge's bodyguard had his axe out, and he pointed it at the Elf judge. "You did this, you sparkly-winged maggot."

The Trolls in the Square growled their agreement, but Second Kingdom soldiers subdued them before they could start a riot.

"Nobody touch anything!" Kelso said. He pushed his way up the stage stairs, and the Troll bodyguard tried to block him.

"Sir Kelso is King Fez's guard captain," Rhonda said and shoved the Troll to the side. "Let him through!"

The Troll appeared stunned at first, but then he bowed. "It is an honored to be shoved by the Troll Nation's Wrestling Champion."

Rhonda blushed, and Fez beamed at her.

Kelso, meanwhile, flipped the pie plates over. "Ah-hah!" he said once he got to Fez's plate. He had the Troll judge's plate in his other hand. "Dude, look at the numbers written here."

Fez scrutinized the bottom of the plates. The number 4 was written on the Troll's, and the number 3 was written on Fez's.

Kelso nodded. "The poison was meant for you."

The crowd roared its shock, and Alpin, the Dwarf judge, stepped up to Kelso and Fez. "Your Majesty," Alpin said, "who could possibly want to poison you? You're Snow White's grandson."

"Oh, many people," Fez said and stared at Benedick. It had been a Fifth Kingdom pie that contained the poison. "Perhaps even the same culprit behind Gretel's murder."

"I think the culprit is right here!" the Troll bodyguard said. He grabbed the pouches of Wolfsbane off Kelso's belt. He opened one and tossed it behind him. Blue Wolfsbane pellets spilled onto the stage then tumbled onto the Square. The other pouch, however, he didn't let go. "Here is the proof!"

Fez and Kelso both peered inside the pouch. It was filled with black flakes of Goblinwort. Poison.

"Wha—?" Kelso looked at Fez then back at the poison. "No, that's not mine!"

Fez wanted to believe him... _No,_ of course Fez believed him. Kelso was his best friend, and if Kelso did do it, it had to be an accident.

Gingerbread Town's guard captain, a woman no older than twenty, climbed onto the stage with several soldiers. She kept her voice low and said, "King Fez, we found some disturbing evidence—by the table where those Fifth Kingdom pies were originally displayed." She presented a golden badge to him, a Fourth-Kingdom-issue First Lieutenant's badge.

Kelso's hand went to his jacket collar. His First Lieutenant's badge was missing.

"I'm sorry, Sir Kelso," the Captain said, and she gestured for her soldiers to close in on him, "but you're under arrest for murder and attempted regicide."

* * *

Steven blocked the soldiers' path as they tried to bring Michael out of the Square. He shouted about Michael being a moron, not a murderer, and his face grew red from the effort. Jackie had never seen him so furious, and she barely held onto him as he engaged in a tug-of-war with the soldiers, where Michael was the rope.

The curse had to be responsible. It was bringing all of Steven's emotions to the surface, not just the nice ones. She didn't care about the cause, though. She just wanted him to stop. Otherwise, the soldiers would toss him in jail with Michael.

"Steven, let him go!" she said. "Fez will clear everything up!"

He didn't seem to hear her, but Eric stepped in. He pried Steven's adrenaline-fueled fingers from Michael's arms, and Jackie marveled at Eric's strength. Never had she expected his bony digits to be capable of such a feat.

"Hyde, chill out—chill!" Eric said and yanked Steven through the crowd.

Jackie followed them, desperately wanting Steven's touch, but he was moving too violently, struggling in Eric's arms. "You can't let 'em have him, man!" Steven shouted. "They'll tie him to a stake and burn him!"

"This isn't Little Lamb Village!" Eric shouted back. "Fez runs things here! He'll make sure Kelso's treated right."

Steven seemed to calm down at that information and stopped fighting Eric's hold. Jackie could have touched him, but she didn't, fearing how Steven would react.

He'd never spoken with her about what happened in Little Lamb Village. Sally Peep, a skanky shepherdess, had been murdered there. He was wrongly accused of the crime, and Jackie had tried to defend him in court. But he was convicted and sentenced to death-by-burning.

The villagers tied him to a stake. A pile of kindling was at his feet, and the true murderer almost set it on fire. Jackie screamed her throat raw that day, thinking Steven was about to die.

She still had nightmares of him bursting into flames. Steven, though, never acted like what happened affected him. She always knew the trauma had to be buried somewhere, lying dormant—and now the curse had woken it up.

* * *

Gingerbread Town's jail was made from chocolate, but the bars might as well have been steel. Kelso had spent the last half-hour squeezing them in his hands, hoping they'd melt—and to release some of his frustration. The guards had taken his jacket as evidence, but what about his reputation as Fez's best protector? Wasn't that evidence, too?

The warden on duty was a busty, gray-haired granny. "Sir Kelso," she said, "you have visitors," and led Eric, Donna, and Miss Muffet to his cell. Then she gave them some privacy by leaving through a caramel-reinforced door.

"Fez sent me in his stead," Miss Muffet explained. "He must finish judging the contest, but he's given the town arbiters strict orders not to set a trial date until he can get involved.

"Does he..." Kelso glanced down at his boots, "does he think I'm innocent?"

"He wants to."

Kelso hit the bars then stalked off to the cell's bench, made of graham cracker. "He's my best friend! He should believe me."

"Kelso," Donna said, "we believe you. Eric, Hyde, Jackie, and me. We know you wouldn't poison Fez."

Kelso nodded. "Betsy would believe me, too... but she's a kid." One of those butterflies emerged in his stomach, but this time it filled him with panic. Its wings scraped against ribs, and he dashed back to the bars. "Guys, would Brooke believe me—if she knew about all this?"

Donna and Eric looked at each other, half-shrugging, but Miss Muffet said, "Anyone who knows your true heart would believe you. You are very angry, but you would not harm your friends."

"Maybe I would..." Kelso tapped the bars then scratched at them. Tapped them again. "I did shoot Hyde with a BB gun when he stole Jackie from me. Maybe I'm 'acting out,' like Donna calls it."

"Um... Kelso, what's that?" Eric pointed to a tiny scab on Kelso's arm, more of a dot than a scab.

Kelso examined the scab himself. "Huh. How'd you even spot it?"

Eric gestured to his eyes. "Wolf-vision."

"Oh. Well, there was a needle stuck in my jacket earlier," Kelso said and froze as a realization heated his mind. "There was a needle stuck in my jacket!" He raised his arms in victory. "Evidence! Yeah! No... wait. Damn!" His arms lowered. "The tailor could've left it in the sleeve by accident. Fez had my uniform made in a hurry."

"Or," Donna put up a finger, "it is evidence. In the forest, Red Caps gave Fez a needle with some red fabric, remember? They said he'd know how to 'call them'."

Eric gazed at her with a loopy smile. "M'lady's memory is as sharp as her beauty... " His smile fell, "Yeah, that one doesn't make any sense," and he turned back toward Kelso. "Hey, the guard you left the tavern with today—she had red hair, didn't she?"

"Yeah, so?"

"She could've been one of my cousin's Red Caps in disguise. You slept with her, right?"

Kelso frowned. "No. I couldn't do it. Pink Floyd isn't working. I'm omnipotent again... What did Jackie say about that? When I find the girl I'm meant to be with, I'll be able to do all the stuff I want..." He pressed his head against the bars. "Man, that's gonna be like finding a needle in a haystack. There's a bajillion girls out there."

Donna reached through the bars and grasped Kelso's ears. "Focus, you dink! What happened when Pink Floyd wouldn't work?"

"Oh, uh... the chick gave me this drink she said would make me ready for action. I drank it, and I guess I fell asleep. But I woke up a few hours later, and she was gone.

"Oh, my God..." Donna let go of him. "Kelso, she drugged you!"

"We need your jacket," Eric said and moved to the jail's caramel-reinforced door. "Warden!"

"No point—" Kelso said and laughed. "'Point'. Man, I'm funny... 'cause needles are pointy."

"Kelso," Donna snapped her fingers in his face, "what about your needle?"

"I tossed it in the town square after it pricked me."

"Terrific." Eric gestured to Donna, and she joined him by the door. They clasped hands. "It's up to us, Donna," he said and knocked on the door. "We have a needle to find—in a stack of gingerbread."

The warden opened the door, and the two of them hurried out to the hall. Miss Muffet, however, stayed behind. "What was the name of the guard who drugged you?" she said.

"Charlotta," Kelso said, "but it was probably an alias. She's gotta be a Red Cap."

Miss Muffet called the warden into the room. "We have reason to believe that one of your guards, Charlotta, may have something to do with this murder. Spare whatever resources you can to round her up."

The warden bowed her gray head, "Yes, Lord Chancellor," and scuttled back out the door.

Kelso grinned, grateful for Miss Muffet's support—even though it should have been Fez helping him out. "Miss Muffet, that was totally hot."

She patted his arm through the bars. "We'll free you yet, Sir Kelso."

* * *

Hyde and Jackie were back at their room in the castle, and he'd watched her primp herself up for two hours. The sight was good to see, man. It meant she was returning to normal. She'd tried on dress after dress for the Expo awards ceremony, but she finally settled on a violet number that showed off her shoulders. More skin for him to kiss, so it was fine by him.

She hadn't let him go to the jail with Forman and Donna. She was afraid he'd do something rash, and he couldn't disagree. The curse was affecting him in ways he didn't completely understand, forcing emotion on him that was his but amplified. She said it "bypassed his Zen". That sounded right, but if this was just the beginning, what was next?

Jackie undid the French braid she'd spent a good fifteen minutes perfecting. Her hair fell in waves over her face, and she grunted unhappily.

"Keep it that way," he said and grabbed her hands. He didn't want them messing with her hair again. "You look sexy as hell."

"Of course I do," she said, "but my hair has to be just right."

"It is right... and you're freakin' vain. Thought you'd have lost some of that while you were—"

"Fat? Blind?" She seemed angry, but her hands didn't stiffen in his hold. "My obsessing over my appearance is not about vanity, Steven... Well, _part_ of it is, but mostly it's about nerves. Someone tried to poison Fez, and Michael's being framed for it. And you..." She took in a breath, as if deciding whether to speak her next thought. "I'm scared—terrified about what the curse will do to you."

"It's not so bad." He placed her hands flat against his chest. Their presence over his heart energized him, maybe even made him a little giddy. "If you wanna use the curse to your advantage—to manipulate me—go ahead. I didn't give you that lovey-dovey crap before, so...use my screwed-up emotional state while you can."

"I know how you feel without a word."

"You do, huh?"

"I was deaf for a while, remember? And not once did I doubt you love me." Jackie's hands swept up his shoulders and down his arms, and they cupped his elbows. "I always wanted things when and how I wanted them. But now I understand that you give me everything I could ever want—in your way. I'm so, so sorry, Steven."

"Yeah, I'm not innocent here," he said. "You could've used me sayin' a lot more than I let loose. Maybe we wouldn't be in this fucked situation if I'd opened my trap... You know when."

"After Mrs. Forman found your rich daddy."

"Yup."

Jackie drew herself to his body, and he nuzzled his face in her imperfect—but perfect-for-him—hair. She smelled like some kind of flower he couldn't name, sweet and fresh. "We didn't know any better," she said.

_We._ She was taking as much responsibility for their mistakes as he was. If the key to breaking the curse lay inside themselves, mutual responsibility couldn't be a bad start.

"We're gonna get through this shit, okay?" he said and held her tighter. "We got through Kelso and the nurse and the damn games we both played... and the Evil Queen. We'll get through this."

She nodded against his cheek. She was crying, which meant she'd have to redo her makeup. They'd be late to the awards ceremony, but who gave a crap?

When she finally pulled away, her face was a streaky mess of eyeliner and blush. She dragged him to the vanity—an aptly named named piece of furniture. It had a mirror, and she stared at her reflection. "Oh, my God," she said, "I'm the Fairest One of Them All!"

Hyde's brow furrowed. Had she completely lost it?

"Steven, this is exactly how I should look when we go on tour—as Sunlight and the Blue Sky."

"Are you fuckin' with me?"

She giggled, "No..." then gave his nose a pinch. "Yes."

He laughed, too, more from relief than anything else. He'd misjudged her, as he so often did. Yeah, she cared about her looks, but she'd also gained a sense of humor about them. Freakin' incredible. He stroked the ridge of her ear. "You okay?"

"I have you, baby, so... yes, I'm okay."

"More importantly, d—Jackie, you got yourself." He cupped her face and spoke into her lips. "You're strong as hell." Then he gave her a tender kiss. "I'm just backup."

He wasn't sure if she understood what he meant. But if they didn't end their curse before it tightened on him, she'd probably get her chance to learn.

* * *

Eric was on his hands and knees, sniffing the ground of Town Square. It smelled like shoe leather, sweat, and all the food being offered at the Expo. The Square was relatively free of people, but that wouldn't last. Donna had laughed when he'd gotten on all fours, but proving Kelso's innocence was no laughing matter. If Eric's wolf-enhanced senses could help exonerate him, he'd do whatever it took.

"Do you even know what you're smelling for?" Donna said above him

"A clue, Donna," Eric said. Jackie's ring was tucked beneath his shirt collar. He'd put it on a chain around his neck—the easiest way to carry it—and despite Donna's concerns, the ring didn't burn him.

He sniffed the stone ground for another minute, and his hackles rose. The distinct, musky scent of a wolf entered his nostrils, but not just any wolf. One from Grayhead's pack, and Eric could follow it.

He stood up and put the ring's chain around Donna's neck. She flinched then pulled the chain over her head. "No good," she said. "Just burned me."

"But Miss Muffet said if I gave the ring to someone I trusted..."

Donna raised her eyebrows. "You just tried giving it to me without telling me why. You were about to run off, weren't you? To follow some 'hunch'? That's not what I call trust."

He lowered his head. She was right. "I smelled a wolf from Grayhead's pack. That's why I wanted you to hold onto the ring. I can't let the wolf near it."

"And I can't let you near that wolf."

"The wolf won't hurt me. If he has the needle, I have to find it."

"But why would a wolf have it instead of that Red Cap?" Donna said. The ring's chain dangled from her hand, and she passed it back to him. "She's the one who drugged Kelso."

"Maybe to add fuel to Grayhead's fire?" Eric said. "The wolves are already enraged at Gretel's murder. If they find out the Red Caps—that _Penny_ —was trying to kill their next, best hope for safety in this kingdom..."

"Yeah, I get it," she said.

"Look, I have to go before the trail gets cold. The awards ceremony's gonna start soon, and the Square's already filling with people. They're gonna muddy the scent."

"Fine, but at least bring Rhonda with you."

"She's gonna be a little busy protecting Fez. Whoever tried to poison him is still out there." Eric stepped forward, but Donna grasped his shoulders.

"I'm going with you"

"No—" He sniffed the air. Hyde and Jackie's scents mingled with that of the approaching crowd. "Stick by Hyde and Jackie."

He tried to move again, but Donna's grip tightened on him. "I'm not letting you go! Not alone. I'll—"

"Donna, you have to!" His eyes were burning. Was he crying? He shut them, and she released his shoulders.

"Okay," she said, "go."

Just like that. _Go._ She sounded peaceful, but who knew how she really felt? He didn't waste any time figuring it out. He charged through the Square in pursuit of the wolf... and Kelso's freedom.

* * *

"How could I do that?" Donna said, and her fists pounded Hyde's chest. "How could I just let him go?" Tears rose in her eyes, but they didn't fall. Apparently, Forman had run off after a wolf.

"What direction did he go in?" Hyde said. He loosened his grip on her back. He'd been holding her. "I'll—"

"No!" Jackie and Donna both shouted.

"Don't you dare, Steven." Jackie jabbed a finger at him. "What those wolves did to you will seem like a mercy compared to what _I'll_ do if you go."

He knew she meant it, so he stayed put. "So why _did_ you let him go?" he said to Donna.

"I was arguing with him," she said with a shrug, "and then there was something in his eyes... I just had to agree."

"Somethin' like an orange light?"

"No. At least, I don't... wait."

"Forman hypnotized you."

Donna grimaced. "That sneaky little dillhole!"

"He's _just_ learned he's a wolf, Donna," Jackie said. "Eric's stupid enough to do something like that without knowing."

Hyde smiled, impressed with her insight. She always picked things up quickly, and she smiled back at him...

Wearing a completely different dress. The strapless violet number was gone, replaced by a strapless peach-and-white. The smells of the town square were gone, too. The faded scent of pot smoke met his nose, and Donna's position beside Jackie had changed. She was standing a few feet behind Jackie now—in the Formans' basement?

Another memory. Had to be. Hyde's butt felt cold. He was sitting on the deep freeze, full of pride for his student. Jackie had just confused the hell out of Donna by practicing Zen—being aloof—and Donna walked off silently. She opened the basement door, glanced back at Jackie, then left.

Jackie clapped her hands. "That was great! _I_ was great. Wasn't I great, Hyde?"

_Hyde._ She used to call him that.

_You've done well, Grasshopper,_ he wanted to say. He _had_ said it back then, in his memory, but in the town square his mouth couldn't form the words. Jackie was back in the violet dress, and she eyed him suspiciously as he sputtered, "Gr—gr—"

She nudged him. "Steven?"

He sighed. "Great."

"What's great?"

"That Forman's got a new super power. Should be useful once he gets control over it."

"Uh-huh."

She didn't believe him, and why should she? But a loud, trumpeted fanfare prevented her from asking for the truth—and learning he couldn't call her "Grasshopper" anymore.

The Expo's award ceremony was starting, despite the murder of one of its judges. The Trolls were understandably pissed off about that. They growled for "Justice!" and for Kelso's face to be made into shoes, and the trumpeters played louder to block them out. Extra Second Kingdom soldiers had been stationed around the stage and near the angry Trolls. Unless the real murderer was caught—or Kelso's face was laced up like a pair of sneakers—the treaty between the Troll Nation and Fez's Kingdom was done.

Jackie moved in front of Hyde and leaned back on him. Even with her five senses restored, she still sought constant physical contact with him—not that he minded. His arms closed around her waist, but her clinginess would calm down once they were home...

Of course, they wouldn't _get_ home if they didn't break the curse. His list of people who had a vendetta against him filled too many pages, man, and those were only the people he could think of.

* * *

Eric tracked the wolf's scent through several residential neighborhoods into a crumbling one, full of ramshackle houses and busted gumdrop lampposts. Gingerbread Town's ghetto. The Second Kingdom's Civil War must have been responsible for it. The realm hadn't fully recovered from the violence—the dearth of men was the most obvious sign. In fact, he hadn't seen one human male citizen yet. The population seemed comprised of only grandmothers and young girls. The human men at the Expo were from other kingdoms.

Old animal smells permeated the neighborhood. The grassy stink of horse manure rose from broken cobblestone streets. Stables must have lined these blocks once, abandoned after the war.

The wolf's scent, though, was stronger than the horses'. It led him toward a gingerbread barn with cracked walls. The place should've been condemned. If he stepped inside, the ceiling was liable to crash down on him. The wolf would likely smell him, too, but he had no time to mask his own scent. What did his mother like to say? _Nothing ventured, nothing gained... hahahahahahah!_

He crept inside the barn, careful not to touch the delicate walls. Its windows were clotted with dirt, but enough evening light eked through. He could see, and the barn seemed empty—except for a fresh, hot scent mixing with the fading, cold smell of the wolf. Eric had company.

He looked up. The walls were ringed by a wide platform near the ceiling. Not exactly a second floor, and a broken double-railing served as a barrier from falling. He searched for a way up there, and then he smelled something new— _hay_ —before mounds of it dropped on top of him.

A hay bail knocked him to the floor, followed by a suffocating amount of loose hay. It buried him, clogging his nose and throat, and he clawed helplessly through his dark, shaggy tomb.


	50. The Answer's Far

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 50  
 **THE ANSWER'S FAR**  


Eric was beyond tired of being suffocated. First, his sister had tried to strangle him to death in Fez's castle. Then the flare-bug venom turned his lungs into light, and now he was going to drown in an ocean of hay. The all-pervading smell of it rendered his nose useless. Whoever dumped the stuff on him had to be long gone by now.

He shoved his arms through the hay and kicked his legs, but any hay he displaced was replaced by more hay. His last breath was growing thin and burning in his lungs. At least the hay would be a scratchy place to die.

"Giving up so fast, little brother?" Laurie said from somewhere, mocking him. "Not surprising." But was she actually here or inside his head? "You did the same thing in Little Lamb Village, remember? When Hyde was convicted of murdering that shepherdess. You and Donna ran off to a barn—much nicer than this one, I have to say—and clung to each other, boo-hooing like children and hiding."

She was right—or his delusion of her was right. Either way, Kelso had been the brave one then. He'd gone out with doggy-Fez to investigate the murder. They'd discovered the shepherdess's true killer and freed Hyde—while Eric had done nothing but cower.

How could he let Kelso down now?

With renewed vigor, Eric thrashed in the haystack. His oxygen-deprived lungs forced open his mouth, and he sucked in a throatful of hay. He coughed, but the stuff was lodged too deeply. He was choking. Dots lit the darkness behind his closed eyelids, and then his stomach contracted painfully—as if someone had him in a backward bear hug.

Did people normally hallucinate before they died? Because strong, invisible fists were pressing under his ribcage. They expelled the hay from his throat, and a giant vine shot out of the haystack. It dispersed the hay all over the crumbling barn, and Eric could breathe again.

He rolled free of the remaining hay and recovered his wits. One or more of Laurie's seeds must have fallen out of his pocket. It wasn't a vine that saved him but a gigantic flower stem.

Yellow petals spread from wall to wall and kept the gingerbread ceiling from collapsing. He wasn't sure what kind of flower it was, but it didn't look like a rose. It had sprouted with very little light, but certain flowers only bloomed at night, didn't they? What was the chance that this particular seed would fall from his pocket?

No chance at all. His sister had saved him.

He looked down at himself. A thick cord of a vine was wrapped around his stomach. It must have given him the Heimlich. He yanked at the vine, and it pricked his palm—which shouldn't have surprised him. Of course Laurie's help would have a thorny side. He pulled the vine off himself more carefully, but he didn't encounter any more thorns. In fact, the vine didn't seem to have any thorns. Then what had stuck him?

He examined the vine inch-by-inch until he spotted it: a red thread. At the end of the thread was a needle, the one he'd been searching for, the one that could exonerate Kelso.

Eric left the derelict barn with the needle safely in his pocket. He raced into the night, down the broken cobblestone streets, and whispered, "Thanks, Sis."

* * *

The Trolls in the town square were congratulating each other with hard slaps to the back and clanks of their axes. They'd not only won the Candy and Pie Expo's "Best Soup" category but "Best Overall Dish". Donna was desperately looking for signs of Eric in the crowd, but the Trolls' victory had taken over the Square.

Most people cheered as Fez presented the Troll soup-maker with his prizes, including seeds to make candy grow in their overly-acidic soil. Only the Elves seemed to be bitter, claiming it was a win based on pity. But according to the the other Expo judges, the Trolls had won fairly—by working culinary magic into their limited ingredients.

"It's a cheat, I tell you!" an Elf shouted above the crowd. A Troll overheard him and tapped his burly buddies. They stomped over to the Elf and his translucent-winged friends.

"You wanna say that to our faces?" the Trolls growled.

The Elves' wings all fluttered, but one of the Elves said, "If your judge hadn't died on the table, your soup never would have garnered top honors. In fact, I wouldn't put it past you dirty Ogres to have poisoned your own man yourself!"

"Suck an Elf!" the Trolls roared, and they brandished their axes. The Elves dipped their fingers into pouches. They probably contained some kind of magic dust inside, but neither Elf nor Troll had a chance to make the first strike. The Gingerbread Town guard rushed in to break up the fray before it started, but—strangely—one of the soldiers had bits of hay all over her.

"Donna! Donna!" Eric dashed through the crowd, and Donna sucked in a relieving breath. "I found it," he said once he reached her."I found the needle!"

"In a haystack?" She brushed hay from his hair. He was covered in it—just like that soldier.

She turned toward the Trolls and Elves. The Gingerbread Town guard was having trouble calming both sides down, even though the fight had deescalated to verbal insults. This was Donna's best opportunity.

"Cover me, Eric," she said and charged for the hay-dusted soldier.

"Donna—what?" Eric said, but she leapt on the soldier's back. They both tumbled to the stone ground. Donna went for the soldier's helmet, but the soldier rammed her open palms into Donna's chest and shoved her back.

Two soldiers broke off from the Troll-Elf scuffle and grabbed each of Donna's arms. "She's a Red Cap!" Donna said, but the soldiers scoffed at her.

"This is Gretel's half of the kingdom," one of them said. "We don't allow Red Caps here."

They began to pull Donna through the crowd, and Eric ran at them, but Hyde pushed through a cluster of Goblins. "Forman, don't!" he shouted and hooked Eric around the stomach.

Eric wrenched free of Hyde's grasp, but the trumpeters on the judge's stage blasted a fanfare, drawing everyone's attention. The Trolls and Elves stopped arguing. The soldiers' grip on Donna's arms loosened. Jackie must've overheard Eric about the needle because she was on the stage, standing beside Fez and Rhonda.

The trumpeters fell silent at Fez's signal, and he announced, "Daffodil's real killer has been found!"

Eric and Hyde looked at each other, both mouthing, "Daffodil?"

Donna mouthed the name to herself, too. Why did fearsome, violent Trolls give their children such delicate names?

"Yes," Fez said. "We have evidence that the Troll judge's murderer is Charlotta, one of Gingerbread Town's guards—"

The hay-dusted Charlotta made a run for it. Donna pulled herself free from the soldiers and tackled Charlotta's legs. Charlotta crashed to the ground, and the fall knocked her helmet halfway off her head. A loose bun of red hair peaked out from the bottom of it.

"Hiding in plain sight, huh?" Donna said and put Charlotta in a half-nelson.

Charlotta struggled to get free, but a soldier stepped in. Several gold badges were attached to her chainmail armor. She and two older soldiers lifted Charlotta to her feet and restrained her. Eric and Hyde, meanwhile, helped Donna off the ground.

"You okay?" Hyde said.

Donna nodded while Eric checked her over, but her attention returned to the judges' stage. Jackie was whispering something to Fez. He clapped his hands once and said, "Eric, please join us."

Eric did, and after Fez whispered something to him, Eric held up the needle. "This needle," Eric said, and the crowd in the Square stared at it, "has a piece of red thread attached to it. This needle was originally in Kelso's—" Fez whispered something else to him. "Sorry—it was in Sir Kelso the Valiant's jacket."

"Red Caps?" someone in the crowd said, and the words rumbled through the Square like thunder.

"I found it in a haystack," Eric continued. "I was ambushed by Charlotta—"

The decorated soldier pulled a piece of hay off Charlotta's armor. "King Fez," the soldier shouted, "I'm First Lieutenant of the Gingerbread Town guard. Though the evidence is intriguing, it's not nearly enough to—"

"There's more," a new voice said. Another soldier, even more decorated than the First Lieutenant, strode onto the stage with Kelso and Miss Muffet behind her. She had to be the Captain of the Guard. "We found a jar in Charlotta's quarters with trace amounts of the same poison that killed the Troll judge. We also found these." She held up a over a dozen needles, identical to Eric's. "They were scattered in her quarters."

Donna thought back to the Council of the Nine Kingdoms. The painting of Gretel's murdered body—it depicted her as riddled with tiny pinpricks.

"That proves nothing!" Charlotta said. "Kelso must have planted all the evidence after we lay together!"

"I couldn't nail you!" Kelso said. "I'm omnipotent, and you drugged me."

Charlotta shouted denials, but the town's guard captain spoke over her. "Then why was a drink concocted with Troll dust in your quarters? Judging from the liquid's deep pink color, it had enough Troll dust to knock someone out for a few hours.

"Hey," Hyde said, "that was my trick."

Donna glanced at him. News of what had happened at Fez's coronation must have traveled to every doorstep in the Nine Kingdoms.

"One of Charlotta's needles got stuck in my jacket when I fell unconscious," Kelso said.

The town's guard captain nodded. Then she gestured to her soldiers from the judge's stage, and they manacled Charlotta's wrists and legs together swiftly.

"Charlotta of Birchwood," the First Lieutenant said, "you're under arrest for murder and attempted regicide."

The soldiers dragged Charlotta away, and she whispered something that sounded like, "Botolf, Botolf!"

"All hail Sir Kelso!" Fez said.

All but the Trolls shouted, "Hail Sir Kelso! Hail Sir Kelso! Happily Ever After! Happily Ever After!"

The trumpeters began a celebratory tune, and the shock of the unofficial and no-way legal trial seemed to pass quickly from the Square. The Trolls grumbled to themselves about Queen Riding Hood the Third, about how she should stick to burning wolves unless she wanted war with the Troll Nation. Donna didn't like the sound of that, but Hyde took her hand and led her toward the stage.

They met up with their friends just as Fez finished what sounded like an apology to Kelso.

"Whatever," Kelso said, but Fez clapped his shoulder before he could skulk off.

"I know you feel threatened by Rhonda," Fez said, "but you are my Captain of the Guard. You are irreplaceable, my friend."

Kelso let out a sad little chuckle. "Oh, yeah? You haven't been acting like it—or like I'm your friend, either."

He shrugged Fez's hand off his shoulder. Donna reached out to him, but he ignored the gesture and left the stage.

"Forman, what about the wolf?" Hyde said and pressed his cheek to Jackie's temple. "You find him?"

Jackie had hugged him as soon as he got to the stage. Her arms remained around his waist, and her fists were twisted in his shirt. They'd been apart from each other for only a few minutes, but the separation seemed to have traumatized her. Even Donna could see she was trembling, and Hyde started to rub her back, like he'd done when she was blind and deaf.

Eric shook his head. "Must have run off a lot faster than I could catch him."

"Thank God," Donna said and grasped his hand, but what she really wanted to do was cling to him the way Jackie was clinging to Hyde—and never let him go again.

* * *

Eric and Donna had taken a more-than-pleasant bath together in their suite. Soaping her up had been fun, but washing the bubbles off her fun parts had been better. She'd kissed him hungrily—maybe even desperately—on the way back to the castle, eliciting an "Ew!" from Jackie, which was the icing on Eric's cake. For all the times she and Hyde had disgusted him with their mutual groping, they deserved a little payback.

But once Eric and Donna toweled off from the bath, fun-time was over. She pulled him into the bedroom, to the vanity, and made him look in the mirror spun from sugar. "Do that thing with your eyes," she said.

"What thing? You mean where I waggle my eyebrows?"

"No, where you hypnotize your wife into letting you chase after a wolf."

He examined his ordinary-looking green eyes in the mirror. The room's candlelight gave them a soft glow but nothing he'd call hypnotizing. "I did?"

"Yeah."

He squinted then widened his eyes. He rolled them toward his upper lids, closed one of them.

Donna's face appeared beside his in the mirror. "Never do that again," she said, "not to me."

"I don't even know how I did it in the first place."

She walked away from him. "I'm sure Wolf will teach you when he 'trains' you."

"Not so sweet on your little boyfriend anymore, huh?" he said and turned from the mirror. Donna was sitting on the edge of the bed now, and her bare feet buried themselves in the thick, cotton-candy carpet. Good thing it was made from magic, or they'd both be constantly sticky.

"What are you talking about?" she said.

"Come on, Donna. You've acted 'fond' of Wolf ever since he kidnapped you."

She sighed as if she'd explained herself a hundred times. "He only did that to warn us about the wolves interest in Jackie's ring."

"Okay." Eric moved in front of her and crossed his arms to keep from gesturing wildly. "You were easily hypnotized by Wolf, too, during the Council of the Nine. You were going to ask him a question, but Wolf's eyes glowed orange, and you stopped."

"I did—I was? I don't remember that."

"He'd implied that he's Penny's family... which means he's my family. He obviously didn't want you asking that in front of all the Nine Kingdoms." Eric sat on the bed next to her, and his hand landed on her knee. She was wearing her nightclothes, which meant panties and nothing else. "I know what your type is. All you redheads are alike."

She chuckled incredulously. "What?"

"Yeah..." he glided his fingertips over the top of her thigh, "you all want us a little wolfish. That Red Cap who tried to poison Fez, I think she may have a wolfy boyfriend."

He stopped teasing Donna's flesh. Her scent had grown—well, aroused was the best way he could describe it. But he needed her to focus.

"I followed the wolf's trail to a crumbling barn," he said and explained how he'd been ambushed by hay. He downplayed his latest near-death experience, but it didn't matter. Her scent shifted from desire to fear anyway.

"Either Charlotta and that wolf from Grayhead's pack are in cahoots," he continued, "or the wolf screwed her over because she was saying, "Botolf, Botolf!" as the guards hauled her off."

Donna flinched. "You heard that from the stage? I barely heard it, and I was a few feet from her."

"These wolfy ears of mine can pick up a sniffle in the next town over. Plus, I was concentrating on her, just in case she blurted out a clue."

"But you don't know that 'Botolf' is the name of that wolf—or any wolf."

Eric ran a finger down the side of Donna's face and gently cupped her chin. "We don't know if it isn't."

* * *

Jackie was lying on top of Steven in the darkness of their room. They'd just made love, and the high she got from it buzzed through her skin and deeper, into her muscles and blood. Being so close to him without barriers was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. Making love blind had been difficult, but her lack of insight had been worse. She recognized now how intensely loving his movements were, and she cloaked herself in the recent memory of them.

Another round, however, would've been wonderful. The first had made her terror go away, if only for a little while, but she didn't want to aggravate his wounds.

He was much better than he'd been a few days ago. His arms no longer shook when he held her, and his breathing seemed easier, too. But the dim candlelight had shown he wasn't fully healed, that his body was still a patchwork of scabs. So she'd done most of the heavy work tonight—grinding on top of him while his hands explored her breasts and guided her hips. The position was one of his favorites anyway, and he deserved something nice for carrying the burden of their curse.

But now, as she snuggled into him, she prepared for a light sleep. The anxiety would return to her chest soon, and she'd be lucky to get a few hours in.

"It's gone," he said moments later.

"What is?" Her eyes popped open in the dark. Terror flooded back into her system, drowning what remained of her joy. Had the curse taken something from him?

"The pain from my wounds, man. It's completely gone."

She sat up and snapped her fingers. Melted candles in the gumdrop sconces replenished themselves and lit the room. She pulled the covers off the bed and scanned Steven's body. Fresh, pink skin had replaced his brown and bumpy scabs. The red thread had absorbed into him, too, leaving ghostly train tracks where the Red Caps stitched him together.

"Roll over," she said.

"I'm not lettin' you do _that_ to me. I'm not that far gone yet."

"You're disgusting."

Steven laughed and got onto his stomach. His back looked the same as his front, healed. She smoothed her hands over his skin, over his strong muscles, and down to his butt. She gave it a squeeze, and he laughed harder.

"You've got a freakin' ass fetish," he said.

"Only yours. And you squeezed mine plenty tonight."

"True enough." He rolled onto his back again and pulled her on top of him. She began to relax and cuddled into him more vigorously, confident she wouldn't hurt him. "You know," he said and stroked her shoulders, "those Red Caps in the forest said doin' it with you would make me heal faster. Guess they were right."

"Well, gazing upon my beauty has brought men to their knees. Maybe I'm like the Holy Grail."

"You are to me. 'Cause I'm in love with you."

"Oh, Steven..." She breathed in a deep, happy breath as tension fled her body. Verbal confessions of his love weren't necessary anymore, but she'd never get sick of hearing them.

Her mouth rewarded him with a lengthy and involved kiss below his jawline, safe to touch now that the stitches were gone. He groaned softly, and his fingers clutched her hair until she released him.

"Can't... get enough of that," he said, and her heart fluttered. The spot below his jaw was his favorite place to be kissed. She'd learned that from experimentation, but he'd never admitted it aloud before.

She returned to the spot, kissing him until he groaned again, and his hands cradled her cheeks in retaliation. His thumbs caressed her ears, igniting sparks all down her spine.

"Okay... _okay,_ " she managed to say and pushed herself from him. Their indulgence had to end. "Why would a Red Cap try to poison Fez? Aren't they on our side?"

Steven looked at her funny, as if he were confused by her switch of focus. "Maybe she went rogue. Who knows? Who cares?"

"You should. I'm considering _everyone_ in the Nine Kingdoms a suspect until we break this curse."

He smirked. "You sound like me."

"Well, _someone_ has to."

She snapped her fingers again. The candles went out, and Steven welcomed her back into his arms. She had no place she'd rather be, and she thanked God he was still hers to call home.

A little while later, when their breathing settled into a drowsy pattern, Steven spoke into the dark: "Why'd you trust me in the first place?"

The question came out of nowhere—and it wasn't one he'd normally ask. He must've been having a private conversation with himself, through the hole the curse had punctured in his defenses.

"In the first place?" she said and yawned. The day had been long and tiring, but he always listened to her when he was exhausted. She had to do the same for him. "Finish your thought, baby."

"At the ski cabin, after you broke up with Kelso—the first time. You knew I hated you. Why the hell did you go to me?"

"Well, I didn't think much of you then, either. Your hair was overgrown and messy. You smelled like an ashtray and dressed like an unwashed hippie. I didn't understand how Michael could be friends with you, so... wait. Why did _you_ hate _me?_ "

"You stole Kelso."

"What?"

"It was me, Forman, Kelso, and Donna," he said. "For almost ten years, man. Only family I had. Then you came in and—" His voice caught, like he was fighting the words. The curse was making him tell the truth. Jackie had unintentionally broken open a sealed cache of his secrets.

"It's okay, Steven. You don't have to—"

But the rest of his thoughts spilled out. "He never hung out with us anymore unless you were around, and you were a controlling, condescending bitch."

She sighed. "I know."

"Shit." He tried to sit up, but she didn't let him. "Jackie, that's not—"

"At the ski cabin," she said, "I knew you wouldn't hurt me. I just _knew._ "

"But I did, man. I made it worse." He patted her back, and they rolled onto their sides. His arm draped over her chest, and his chin slid into the curve of her shoulder. "Edna," he said. "She did that a lot, tried to help by being an asshole. Guess I took on more than one of her peachy habits."

"Steven, I was so wrapped up with Michael that I didn't even think about you. What you said about Pam Macy made me more upset about losing him, not angry at you." She sighed again and pressed his hand into her heart. "That was an awful night all around. You tried to steal Donna from Eric, and I was in the way. I missed Michael, and... you were convenient for me."

Steven's chin slipped off her shoulder, and his arm grew limp over her chest. "That's why you bamboozled me into bringing you to my junior prom."

"Yes..."

"You weren't really crying then, were you?"

"No."

"How'd you know I'd cave?" he said "How'd you know I wouldn't bail on you, let you show up at my house, and have me not be there?"

"I just knew," she repeated. "Like, when I go to a mall-wide half-off sale, I know exactly what order to hit the stores. I avoid the longest lines and get the best stuff. It's instinct." She turned toward him in the dark and traced his features. She'd done it so many times when she'd been blind that it felt normal. But he was acting anything but normal. Doubt escaped him like steam from a tea kettle. It had curved his lips into a frown and shut his eyes tightly. "Why are you questioning all this?"

"I wanna know why you believed I wasn't a worthless shit, man—'cause I never showed you anything different."

"Maybe that's how true love works. Magic really could be in it, letting us _feel_ the truth about a person when it's least visible. That night at the cabin, you treated my trust with indifference— but you never did it again. Steven, you always protected me afterward."

"That's bull. Don't idealize me, Jackie."

"And don't demonize yourself."

Jackie's throat tightened. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Could he feel it? His manner had become so dark, but self-hatred wasn't his style. His self-esteem usually seemed healthy, almost _too_ healthy sometimes, bordering on cocky. He rarely spoke about his mother, but Jackie knew Edna used to say horrible things about him. Once, Jackie had even heard her, through the screen door of Steven's old house: " _They're all going to laugh at you!_ "

It was Prom night, and Jackie had met Steven on his rotted porch. Edna couldn't have known who his date was, Point Place High's most popular cheerleader. If anyone was going to be laughed at, it was Jackie—for taking Gross Edna's scruffy, burnout son.

Steven's stiff breaths heated Jackie's skin now on their gingerbread bed, and her chest burned from the speed of her heartbeat. "Puddin'," she said, hoping to soften the blow, "were you afraid I'd be embarrassed..." she swallowed—her throat was so tight, "by being seen with you at Prom?"

"Yup," he said, though she'd expected hesitation.

"Is that why—on the night you got arrested for me—you insisted I didn't want to be with you? Were you trying to protect me from you?"

" _Both of us,_ " he said, again with no hesitation. "From each other."

Guilt infused her racing heart. She was using the curse to learn these things, but he _had_ given her permission...

"When did you first fall in love with me?" she said.

"On my porch."

"What? Prom night?"

"When you asked if you should meet Edna," he said. "Couldn't believe Jackie freakin' Burkhart would do that, risk goin' inside my rat-hole of a house." His voice was relaxed. He seemed to be smiling. "Oh, and the dress you were wearing helped."

Jackie's face flushed. "You said I looked beautiful... but you barely touched me while we danced. If you'd fallen in love with me, why didn't you like my kiss that night?"

"Didn't know what I was feelin' then. Thought it was an after-effect from the joint I smoked before... and you were Kelso's chick... lots of reasons. But I wasn't ready. Didn't wanna encourage either of us to do something we'd both regret."

"Oh..." She giggled although she also felt sick to her stomach. Finally, some of _The_ _Steven Hyde Mysteries_ were being solved, but he didn't really want her to know these things, did he? The curse had forced them out.

Still, she couldn't suppress her joy. He'd fallen in love with her so long ago, and that fact turned her on—and her giggles into delighted cackles.

"What?" he said

"If I'd wanted to, would you have slept with me that night instead of Pam Macy?"

"Probably."

She batted his arm. "'Probably'?"

"Look, I'm really tired. Can we finish _Twenty Questions_ tomorrow?"

He didn't sound angry but _frightened,_ and Jackie winced. She'd gotten drunk on his answers, on the power the curse gave her over him. Steven was allowed to have his secrets.

She slipped from his body and left the bed. Tears had begun to fall, and she crept to the farthest corner of the room. He shouldn't have to hear her cry. Depriving herself of his touch was a punishment, but it fit her crime.

"Fine, keep askin'," he said, "but keep your ass over here."

She took a moment before answering, to get the tears out of her voice. "I'm being horrible. I shouldn't have asked you."

"It's cool, Jackie. I told you these things already."

She risked a sniffle. "No, you didn't."

"Yeah, I did—while you were deaf."

"Oh, my God..."

"And a shitload more," he said. "They're yours, man... just like me."

Jackie said nothing but dashed toward the bed in the dark. Her shin knocked into the frame, though, and she fell onto the mattress with a grunt.

Steven bent over her. "What'd you do?"

"My shin..." New tears escaped her closed eyes, and she rubbed her leg. "Is this how it feels when I kick you?"

"Your shin throbbing?"

"Yes."

"Burning?"

"Uh-huh."

"You pissed off?"

"Very."

"Yup," he said and ran his hand up her shin, "that's what it feels like." Then his lips pressed softly into her leg, and he kissed her from ankle to knee. Surprisingly, the pain stopped. "Better?"

"Yes."

He kissed past her knee and further up her leg. He slid off her panties, and his mouth settled between her thighs. By the time he was finished, her body was shaking and delirious with pleasure—and her heart was full of gratitude that God had given her this man.


	51. Heritage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 51  
 **HERITAGE**  


The castle's dining room smelled like Wolf and the bacon he was devouring. Eric had picked up the scents up before entering, of course, and Donna didn't flinch at Wolf's presence. But their friends seemed surprised at the sight of him.

Wolf's thick black hair was slicked back, and he was clean-shaven. His coat was slung over the back of his chair. He appeared like any normal man enjoying breakfast, except for his fluffy, kinked tail. It stuck out behind him and between the chair's slats.

Jackie panicked and pushed at Hyde to leave, but Hyde said, "He's like Forman—a good one."

"Better eat up," Wolf said, and his sharp teeth gleamed brightly. "We've got a long day ahead of us. The bacon's a little overcooked, but you know chefs and fire." He gestured to the platter in front of him. "They just have to indulge themselves, keeping meat on the flame with no regard for flavor."

"Right." Eric sat next to him, both to prevent Donna from doing so and to have a fair chance at snatching some bacon. Rhonda took the other seat beside Wolf, and Fez sat next to her. Kelso, though—along with Hyde and Jackie—sat on the far side of the table, away from everyone else.

Eric understood Hyde and Jackie's choice. After what they went through, sitting close to any wolf couldn't be high on their list. Eric just hoped this didn't include himself. Hyde was essentially his brother, and Eric considered Jackie a friend. But so far, they seemed okay with him. They'd trusted him with their cursed ring, hadn't they? And Jackie's scent didn't register any fear around him.

Kelso's isolation, however, was less understandable. Sure, his distance from _Fez_ made sense. Fez had doubted Kelso's innocence yesterday, and it must've felt like betrayal. But Kelso also had three chairs between himself and Hyde, and his glum expression was the same from last night.

Attendants brought in several bacon-and-cheddar quiches for everyone to eat, along with freshly-squeezed orange juice. Recipes from the Candy and Pie Expo had been added to the castle's menu, and Donna seemed to be enjoying the results. She dug into her quiche slice with gusto, eating almost like a wolf herself.

"So," she eventually said and looked at Wolf, "where is Eric's 'training' going to take place? How _long_ will it take place?"

"Oh, not long." Wolf said. He stuffed four pieces of bacon into his mouth, and Eric stuffed _five_ pieces into his own mouth. He was feeling competitive, but drool dribbled down his chin as he chewed. "I have the perfect spot to train him, too," Wolf continued. "I know it well."

Eric paused his chewing long enough to speak. "Will we be going to Penny's castle today?" He tried to keep as much fear from his voice as he could, but his scent had to be thick with it.

Wolf scratched his temple with two fingers. "Tomorrow."

"Cool," Kelso said, and his mood appeared to brighten. "I like your cousin, Eric. Maybe I'll actually get to do it with her this time."

"Do you have to sleep with _every_ female member of my family?" Eric said.

"Hey, if your mom was up for it—"

Eric flung a piece of bacon at Kelso's eye. It hit the mark, even from so far away, but Kelso didn't seem fazed. He took the bacon and popped it into his mouth.

Everyone finished their serving of quiche—and Eric and Wolf finished their _three_ servings—and Fez asked for the table's attention. "Rhonda and I are not going with you to Queen Riding Hood's castle," he said. "Penny will be too suspicious if I'm there from the outset, and I must alert my own Lord Chancellor and guard of what's been happening. We will rendezvous with you at a later date."

"Hey, what about me?" Kelso stood from the table and bumped it on his way up. Dishes and silverware bounced. "It's my guard, too. I'm the captain of it."

Fez frowned. "Yes, and you may need to command it again soon." He walked around the table to where Kelso was standing. Then he handed Kelso two pouches from his own belt. "I procured more Wolfsbane for myself last night. For now, you must protect Jackie and Hyde. They are still in danger, and if Penny _does_ want the ring, that danger will increase once they're at her castle. There is no one I trust more than you to keep them safe."

Kelso scowled but tied the two pouches to his belt. They replaced those he'd lost during the Expo.

"Hey," Wolf pointed at the pouches, "aren't you being a little heavy-handed? How many wolves do you plan on paralyzing?"

Hyde's arm slid protectively over Jackie's shoulders, and he answered on Kelso's behalf. "As many as freakin' necessary, man."

* * *

Miss Muffet met them all outside the dining room to wish them good luck. She had kind, hopeful words for everyone, and Fez couldn't help shedding a few tears as he embraced her. This woman had been like a mother to him, and he studied her face long enough to remember it well. The next few weeks—if not months—would be hard ones, and who knew when they'd see each other again?

Kelso shared an intimate moment with Miss Muffet, too. She'd had quite the effect on him, apparently. He hugged her warmly as Fez and Rhonda said their goodbyes to their friends.

Hyde punched Fez's arm lightly and said, "Stay safe, man."

"Oh, I'll keep him safe," Rhonda said.

Fez gave her a suggestive glance, "Not _too_ safe, eh?" and she snort-laughed.

"Fez, I'll see you at Penny's castle, okay?" Eric said. "So no tarrying or dilly-dallying or getting killed. Just do your business and get over there." His concern, Fez knew, was both for himself and for Fez. Eric had an incredible mission to carry out, one that was as nation-changing as it was personal.

"Don't worry, my friend. We'll have our Happily Ever After yet." Fez was smiling, but the smile fell when Kelso returned to them. He did not expect his usual hug from Kelso before he left, and he did not get one. Kelso was too angry and rightly so. Fez had, for a brief moment, believed him to be capable of murder.

"So..." Kelso began, and his gaze landed everywhere but on Fez, "tell Cadell and the guard, 'Tally ho,' from me."

A message for Kelso's First Lieutenant. "Is that all you have to say?" Fez said. He kept his tone even, but inside he was boiling. Candy canes would dissolve to vapor on his tongue. Surely, Kelso could forgive him for his terrible lapse in judgment.

"And..." Kelso's eyes flicked up to Fez's face, "don't die." He half-heartedly raised his hand for a handshake, and Fez grasped it with both of his.

"And you should not doubt how I feel about you." The words were better said in private, but Fez had no time. "True love never dies... nor does trust."

Kelso's mouth opened, but no sound came out. He merely tightened his grip on Fez's hand before letting go.

* * *

Eric's hands had begun to sweat. Wolf was leading everyone through Red Riding Hood Forest, and he'd taken them into Penny's half of the Second Kingdom. It lay three hours north of Gingerbread Town, and to the east, mountains rose high above the trees.

"Red Caps roam the forest constantly," Wolf had told them earlier, "which deters wolfies from crawling out of their villages. We shouldn't encounter any trouble."

But the Red Caps' presence didn't boost Eric's courage. One Red Cap had "gone rogue," as Hyde called it. She'd tried to poison Fez at the Expo yesterday, and who knew how many others were like her?

Fez and Rhonda's absence made him anxious, too. They were both good fighters, and Fez knew Penny as a queen. Eric knew her only as his tattling, trouble-making cousin. Would she expect him to bow? . Probably. Ruling an entire kingdom trumped any prank he could possibly pull on her.

"Eric, it's gonna be okay." Donna whispered. She grasped his hand but didn't recoil at its dampness. They were all kind of sweaty anyway, carrying knapsacks heavy with supplies. Hyde didn't seem to have any trouble hefting his own and Jackie's packs. His wounds must've been a lot better.

At the start of their journey, Jackie had tried to carry her knapsack herself, but her pace slowed them down. She was too petite and nearly toppled over from the weight of it, so Hyde took pack from her—but she'd argued with him to give it back. Eric found that strange. In his experience, she always shunned physical labor that she found "unnecessary," but she'd demanded Hyde return the knapsack until he said, "Either I carry your pack, or I carry _you_ carrying your pack."

They'd had no more arguments after that, and the group was able to cover ground more quickly. Now, however, Wolf's pace slowed. He announced they'd reached their destination and brought everyone to a dense wall of oaks. "These trees protect my private hideaway," he said.

To the unobservant eye, nothing lay beyond the oaks but more oaks, but a tunnel of roots and dirt ran beneath them. Everyone squeezed through it one-by-one, and they emerged at the other end to a grassy plain. The place was open to the bright, cloudless sky. It had plenty of room to run and natural obstacles to climb.

"Welcome to the abandoned wolfy playground." Wolf presented the rocks, bushes, and trees proudly. "My parents used to bring me here with my brothers and sisters when we were cubs."

Donna patted a glittering rock formation that towered over her. "Why was it abandoned?"

"The Civil War," Wolf said and pulled a bacon sandwich from his pack. "Not safe for anyone to bring their cubs outside with all the fighting. And now, with the Red Caps out there... let's just say this part of the woods isn't very wolf-friendly."

Eric followed Wolf's lead and took out a bacon sandwich for himself. His friends did the same, and after a quick lunch, Wolf began Eric's training.

"We're going to start with the nose," Wolf said and told Eric to shut his eyes.

A moment later, he gave Eric his first test. Eric had to identify which of his friends was standing in front of him. Donna and Jackie he recognized without a problem. Donna's scent he'd know—well, with his eyes closed. And the smell of Jackie's hair gave her away. But Hyde and Kelso's scents were indistinguishable from each other.

"Everyone has an individual scent," Wolf said afterward. "No two are alike. More generally, humans smell differently from wolves, who smell differently than Elves and so on. Men and women smell differently from each other, too, as do adults and children." He gestured for Kelso to hold out his arm. "Without the jacket, please."

Kelso eyed him suspiciously. "You're not gonna take a bite, are you?"

Wolf gasped then frowned. He seemed genuinely hurt, and Donna said, "Of course he won't," which made Eric eye _her_ suspiciously.

"All right," Kelso said and took off his jacket, "but if he chomps me, Eric, I'm taking _your_ arm to replace mine."

Wolf held Kelso's bare arm gently. He put his nose a few millimeters above it and sniffed. Then he told Eric to do the same. Eric did, but Kelso just smelled human to him. "Kelso, stay where you are," Wolf said. "Hyde, if you would..."

"No!" Jackie rushed in front of Hyde. "You wolves have done enough to him."

"Jackie," Hyde was whispering in her ear, "I gotta help Forman." Donna and Kelso probably couldn't hear him, but his voice sounded loud and crisp to Eric. Likely to Wolf, too.

Hyde stepped forward and rolled up his sleeve. Jackie clung to Donna as Wolf sniffed Hyde's arm. Then it was Eric's turn. He inhaled Hyde's scent, but it was strange. Almost like two people... like it was coated with _Jackie._ He shared this information with Wolf.

Wolf nodded. "Yes, that is what happens with beloveds, especially if they are actively in a relationship with each other. Donna's scent is part of yours, too. Her essence is in your blood."

Eric glanced at Donna, who blushed. That pale skin of hers concealed nothing when she felt embarrassed or vulnerable.

Wolf had Eric sniff Hyde and Kelso's arms for several minutes, until subtle but distinct differences surfaced in his awareness. Jackie let him sniff her again, too—as long as Wolf stayed twenty feet away—and he now recognized Hyde's scent mixed with her own.

When Wolf returned to the group, Eric tested his new skill on him surreptitiously. But his nose didn't pick up what he expected. He'd found it relatively easy to identify wolves by their pack-smell. Wolf, for instance, smelled nothing like Grayhead and his lot, but Wolf didn't smell like much else, either. His musky scent scanned as _wolf_ but nothing more. No grace notes to his smell, and that had to be how Eric had been recognizing him—by the lack of individual markers. Was Wolf masking them somehow? Suppressing them?

Eric didn't get a chance to ask. Wolf dove right into the next lesson: eyes. Kelso, Hyde, and Jackie sat in the grass for this one, but Donna remained by Eric's side. He had no trouble spotting the fox hiding in the foliage or the blue jay perched in an oak's highest branches. He judged distances pretty decently, too, but just how well he judged them would be put to the test in a little while.

"What about hypnosis?" Donna said. She must've been holding onto the question for hours. "Eric—and _you—_ used it on me, only he has no idea how he did it."

"You mean this?" Wolf's eyes flared orange then returned to brown. Donna and Eric both nodded. "It works best when you're hungry—for food, for love, _anything._ It's a feeling you get right here," he pressed a finger between Eric's eyes, "and then, huff-puff, it happens."

"Hungry, huh?" Eric raked his gaze up and down Donna's body. The blouse she'd gotten in Gingerbread Town hugged her breasts perfectly. Yeah, he was feeling pretty hungry right about now...

"Eric," she shouted, "you're doing it!"

"I am?" His eyes did feel odd, like they were burning with tears, but it lasted only a few moments. He turned toward Wolf. "How am I supposed to use this?"

"Oh, I know!" Kelso raised his hand. "By making Donna do that thing Jackie almost did for Hyde—"

Hyde jumped to his feet and yanked Kelso to his feet, as well. "Congrats, man," Hyde said. "You just volunteered."

"For what?"

"To be Eric's test subject."

"Yeah," Eric said and tapped his chin, "I think I'll make you cluck like a chicken."

Kelso tried to back away, but Hyde wouldn't let him. "No," Kelso said, "it won't work on me. I'm whipping out my brains here. I'm too smart to be hypnotized."

"You said my sister did it to you all the time—" Eric said

Kelso grinned. "Yeah, she did dirty things to me—

"No, _hypnotized_ you."

"Oh, right... _fine!_ I'll be your stupid test subject."

"Truer words were never spoken," Hyde said, and Jackie swatted his ankle.

"Thank you, Kelso." Eric rubbed his palms together. He thought of Kelso bragging about his sister—the dirty things she used to do to him—and the memories made Eric hungry again... for a little harmless payback. That burning feeling sparked up in his eyes, and he focused on Kelso's face. "You really want to sing Styx's 'Lady' right now, don't you Kelso?" he said. "In falsetto."

"Forman! That's gonna torture _us!_ " Hyde said, but it was too late.

Kelso climbed onto the lowest rocks of a nearby outcrop and belted out "Lady" in a high-pitched voice. Donna's ring joined in, and Jackie covered her ears and shouted, "I wish I were still deaf!"

Eric applauded once Kelso finished. He was the only one, but the moment had amused him. "So, it's that simple, huh?"

"Oh, no, it's not simple at all," Wolf said, and his expression darkened. "Having a skill like that means you have to use it responsibly, and it won't always be effective."

Eric had no time to ponder Wolf's warning. He was ushered into the next lesson: hearing. Wolf spent the next hour teaching him how to block out background noise and—maybe more importantly—to filter out the noises closest to him. The slightest change in ambient sound could mean a rabbit family had abandoned its warren or that wolves were stationed in the trees overhead.

For this lesson, Donna joined Hyde, Jackie, and Kelso in the grass, and they entertained themselves as Wolf tested Eric's aural awareness. Wolf put a clothespin on Eric's nose and blindfolded him. The test was essentially an elaborate game of would run off, and Eric had to find him in a certain amount of time. Eric lost the first three rounds. But during the fourth, a shifting clod of dirt gave Wolf away, and from then on, Eric won more than he lost.

"Very good," Wolf said, "and now we put it all together."

He brought Eric back to the outcrop and pointed out different elements in the wolfy playground. Together, they made up an obstacle course.

"You will climb up these rocks and jump onto that thick tree branch," Wolf explained. "If you judge the distance incorrectly, you will fall into that pile of leaves, unhurt. Then you will run into the bushes, where I'll grab your ankle and yank you down if you don't spot me first. At the end of the course are four oaks. Kelso and Hyde will be hiding behind two of them, covered in dirt. You must choose Hyde's oak. The dirt will make it more difficult to distinguish your friends' scents, but not impossible. If you find Hyde first, you succeed. If not, you have to do it all again."

"Hyde," Eric said, "you and Jackie okay with this?" Except for a few minutes yesterday and today, Jackie hadn't left Hyde's side since she removed the ring. Eric's task would take a while, longer than she'd probably like.

"Can't I hide with him?" Jackie said.

Wolf swiped his temple with two fingers. "That would make the test too easy."

Jackie huffed. Then she wrapped her arms around Hyde's waist. "Guess I have to let you go _sometime,_ " she whispered, "but you have to come back to me."

"I don't like it either," Hyde said quietly. His face was hidden in her hair. "Forman's got a shitload on his plate, Gr—Jackie. He's carryin' our ring. Can't let him heft this crap alone."

They couldn't have thought anyone heard their exchange, but Eric heard it all Hyde's loyalty to him wasn't surprising, but the direct expression of it was. The curse had made Hyde more emotionally forthcoming, and hearing how Hyde truly felt intensified Eric's determination to do well.

"Let's get this started," Eric said, and Wolf put the blindfold back over Eric's eyes. He put the clothespin on Eric's nose and spongy earplugs into his ears. Being deprived of his senses was eerie, especially now that they were so acute, but the moment didn't last too long. Wolf freed him after Hyde and Kelso were hidden.

Jackie, on the other hand, had been without her senses for almost two weeks.

She was standing with Donna now, a good distance away from the outcrop. Her eyes flicked to the oaks that blocked Hyde and Kelso from view. Eric grasped the cursed ring beneath his shirt and silently reaffirmed his shared oath with Hyde. He'd keep Jackie as safe as his abilities allowed—but he'd also keep Hyde safe, too. They were family, and he no longer doubted Jackie would risk her life to protect himself or Donna. She'd done it before, more than once.

Wolf's whistle cut through his thoughts, and Eric dashed for the outcrop. Clambering up the glittering rock was easy, but its precipice was narrow. He didn't have enough purchase to make a good leap, but maybe he could he jump _over_ the precipice. The thick bough extending from his next target, the beech tree, didn't require height to reach. It required distance.

He climbed down to the flatter plateau below the precipice and pushed off the rock. His legs pumped in the air. His arms stretched forward, and his stomach hit the thick bough. His breath abandoned him briefly, and pain flared in his belly, but he ignored both and grabbed hold of the branch. Donna let out an, "Oh, my God," as his feet kicked and scraped at the tree trunk. He was scrambling onto the branch, but he made it and assumed a wide stance so he wouldn't fall off.

Wolf was nowhere in sight down below. Tall, leafy bushes stood halfway between Eric's beech tree and the oaks. The bushes were swaying slightly, but the air had no breeze. Wolf was hiding in those bushes somewhere, and adrenaline coursed through Eric body. He wanted to leap off the tree, but breaking his leg—or worse—wouldn't help anyone. He shinnied down the tree trunk instead and winked at Donna, who was too far away to see it.

The bushes stopped swaying, and Eric approached them cautiously. If being Red's son had taught him anything, it was to expect traps everywhere. He listened for any signs of Wolf, but the man was being aggravatingly quiet. The bushes gave off some kind of cloyingly sweet scent, too. Sight would have to be the way to go.

Eric stepped into the bushes, and his shoes sank into the surprisingly moist earth. Rain had fallen a few days ago, but this was a mud hole. He kept walking and pushed leaves away from his face. Then his right elbow skimmed against something exceptionally soft, like fur. He looked down. The gray tip of Wolf's tail stuck up by Eric's hip.

He wasn't sure what to do. Did he announce his discovery? Did he grab onto Wolf's tail? Or maybe Eric was supposed to tackle him. His gaze followed Wolf's tail down to his butt, then to his legs crouching in the wet earth—and Eric made his choice. He plunged his hand into the mud and grasped Wolf's ankle.

"Got you," Eric said.

Wolf glanced behind himself and grinned, baring his sharp teeth. "So you do."

Eric's hackles raised, and he bared his own teeth. He felt challenged, like an animal, and it sickened him. His instinct was to attack.

"Sorry," Wolf said, and his expression softened. "I was just being playful. You didn't grow up wrestling with your sister, did you?"

"We more burned each other than wrestled."

Wolf's eyes widened with fear. "With torches?"

Eric laughed. As little as he knew what being a wolf was like, Wolf knew nothing about growing up in Point Place. "No, we insulted each other," Eric said. "You know, 'You're the village whore... BURN!' That sort of thing."

"Oh. Yes. I understand. Though I don't think telling someone to burn is funny."

"That's not exactly what we—"

"Eric?" Donna shouted. She sounded worried.

"I'm fine, Donna!" Eric said through the leaves. "Wolf, I'd better..."

"Finish up," Wolf said.

Eric sprinted from the bushes, but running in mud-covered shoes wasn't efficient. His feet stuck to the drier ground and threw off his gate, but he wasn't in a race. He reached the four oaks and stood in front of them. Hyde and Kelso were behind two, and he needed to sniff Hyde out.

He picked an oak and inhaled deeply. Nothing but the mild, sweet scent of sap entered his nose. He moved onto the next oak and smelled nothing, not even sap. At the third oak, he sniffed out a slightly tangy human odor mixed with dirt. Had to be Kelso, which meant Hyde would be behind the fourth oak, but the fourth oak smelled like nothing.

Eric moved back to the first oak. That sweet sap smell was the pervading odor, but beneath it hid another scent, also sweet but a different flavor. Hard to discern, and he had to give his nose a break before sorting out the subtle differences. Dirt wasn't part of the mix. Wolf said he'd covered both Kelso _and_ Hyde in dirt, but what if Wolf had been lying? Hyde's naked scent was definitely sweeter than Kelso's.

_Just go for it, dumbass._ Red's undying advice rang in Eric's head and spurred him forward. He rounded the oak's broad trunk and found Hyde leaning against it casually. His thumbs were hooked in his belt loops.

"Nice job, Forman," Hyde said, and he gave Eric a low-five. They emerged from the oak together with their arms around each other's shoulders. Eric had far more dirt on himself than Hyde, meaning Wolf _had_ lied, but that was good. Grayhead and his pack probably excreted lies like sweat.

Kelso trailed behind as Eric and Hyde met up with everyone on the grassy field. Jackie's hands were on her hips, and she said, "Get off my boyfriend, Eric," but she was smiling, too.

Eric withdrew from Hyde, and she burrowed herself into Hyde's embrace. Hyde kissed the top of her head, and Kelso muttered, "She used to say that about me." No one but Eric, however, seemed to hear him.

"Eric, you did so well," Donna said and eased her arm around Eric's back. Then she looked at Wolf. "Right?"

"More than well." Wolf clapped Eric on the shoulder. "You trusted your own judgment, despite what I told you, and that is the most important lesson a wolf can learn."

A warm feeling spread through Eric's chest and into his skull. Was it pride? He'd never really been proud of himself before.

"The second most important lesson a wolf must learn, though, is about the full moon." Wolf sat in the grass by their knapsacks, and he pulled out another bacon sandwich. Eric darted to his own knapsack and took out a second bacon sandwich for himself. He gobbled it down as Wolf continued speaking. "The full moon makes us hungry for _everything,_ and sometimes that hunger takes over. It makes us dangerous to ourselves, to loved ones, to livestock. You are lucky in a way." Wolf scratched two fingers on Eric's temple. "You won't transform physically into an animal when the wild moon calls."

Donna's hands tightened on Eric's arm. "Why? He's becoming more 'wolfy' by the day. Won't he, like, grow a tail eventually?"

"Not all part-wolves have equal parts wolf."

Jackie blew out an audible breath. Wolf's answer seemed to have an effect on her. She was sitting in Hyde's lap on the grass, and she jabbed a finger in Eric's face. "I don't care what your heritage is, Eric. You're not one of those murderous animals. You'd never hurt anyone the way that disgusting Grayhead did my Steven."

"Thanks, Jackie," Eric said. Her faith in him meant a lot, but he had his doubts. He did kill his own sister, self-defense or not. He was capable of taking life.

"Wolf," Donna said, "are you related to Penny?"

Eric's muscles clenched. She'd just voiced the question he couldn't bring himself to ask. No preamble. No preparation, and the question hovered in the air like Darth Vader's probe bot, brandishing a hypodermic needle of truth serum.

But Wolf answered without hesitation, "I'm her brother— _half_ -brother," and shrugged as if it weren't a big deal. "Same mother, different fathers."

"But you said your _parents_ brought you here," Eric said, "to the 'wolfy playground,' with your siblings." His blood had grown hot, and his fingers dug into the grass. First, his grandmother Bernice had children with three different men—well, one _wolf_ and two men. Then the aunt Eric never knew about—Penny's mother—had done something similar? What the hell was wrong with his relatives?

He shook his head and stifled a curse. _Unbelievable._ He'd spent his whole life in Point Place believing his family to be one thing when it was something else entirely.

"Penny and I were not raised together," Wolf said. "Penny's grandfather was the man Queen Riding Hood the First—your grandmother—had married. A prince, and Bernice gave him two children: Penny's mother, Averill, and the man who raised Penny as his own daughter, Paul."

"Uh-huh, uh-huh..." Eric had torn huge clumps of grass from the field, and his hands weren't done. They clawed at the dirt, shoved it under his nails. "So my uncle Paul is really her uncle, too," he said and tried to keep his family tree in order. He needed a chart.

"Yes," Wolf continued, "but your grandmother was in love with Rollin."

Eric cast Wolf a questioning glance— _who the hell was Rollin?_

Wolf sighed. "The 'Big Bad Wolf'. They'd mated before she met her husband, but they never produced children. They tried to stay away from each other, so goes the tale, but wolves mate for life." Wolf sighed again, as if this part of the story were personal for him. "Rollin could not keep himself from the woman he loved, and their secret couplings eventually resulted in your father."

"Dude," Kelso said, and he looked happier than he had the last few hours, "Red is _so_ the Big Bad Wolf's son. Did you ever say, 'My, what a big foot you have?' And did he say, 'The better to shove up your ass with?'"

Hyde burst into laughter. "Good one."

"Shut up, Hyde!" Eric's hands were brown with dirt. Bits of grass stuck to them. They moved to dig up some more, but Wolf put his own hand over one of them. His eyes were full of compassion, and Eric felt stuck in place. What did Wolf see in him? What had Wolf seen in his own life?

"Your heritage doesn't change who you are, Eric," Wolf said. He touched the center of Eric's chest, near where the ring was hidden. " _This_ is all that matters. Rich or poor, wolf or man, a good heart is a good heart."

"Man speaks truth, man," Hyde said.

Jackie pointed a finger in the air. "But having a good heart and being _rich_ is always better."

"Wow," Donna was staring at Wolf with some kind of awe, "you really did have extensive therapy."

Wolf nodded. "The prince Bernice had married could've benefited from therapy. He hated wolves passionately, and he pushed her to expel them from the kingdom. She refused, which made him suspicious, and his spies learned of her affair with Rollin—and her pregnancy."

"What did—what did the prince do then?" Donna said.

"He felt so betrayed that he had Rollin killed..." Wolf's voice grew very soft, "and he threatened to kill the half-wolf baby Bernice carried inside her."

"That's awful!" Jackie said.

"That was _Red,_ " Hyde said.

But Eric had trouble relating Wolf's words to himself, to his family. They seemed like a fairy tale...

"So she fled the Nine Kingdoms in a panic," Wolf continued, "with her infant son, Paul."

"And her daughter?" Donna said.

"Bernice left Averill behind. No one knows why she did or where Bernice went, but I believe she must have had one of the Traveling mirrors in her possession—perhaps a gift from Snow White after the Five Great Queens united the Kingdoms."

"Every story has two sides," Donna said almost imperceptibility, and Eric knew what she meant. Bernice couldn't have always been such a hateful woman. She really had loved Red, enough to leave everything she'd known—and her own daughter—to protect him.

"What..." A lump had formed in Eric's throat. He swallowed it down. "What happened to Averill?"

"She was Red Riding Hood's heir," Wolf said. "The prince raised her with the same vehement hatred of wolves he himself possessed, and she eventually became Queen Riding Hood the Second—"

"And began the Civil War with Gretel the Great's daughter," Donna finished. "Averill tried to expel all the wolves from the Second Kingdom."

Wolf frowned, as if the memory of that time was fresh. "Precisely."

Eric stared at the oaks surrounding the wolfy playground. They protected the area from forest, but nothing could protect him from the emotions flooding his system. Red Riding Hood the Second—Penny's mother—had killed Grayhead's wife and children. She'd been responsible for so many deaths in this kingdom. But the hatred she had for wolves stemmed from more than institutionalized racism. The love for a wolf had stolen her own mother away.

Somewhere in the trees, a woodpecker was knocking its beak against a trunk. Eric focused on the sound and hoped it could clear his head. The implications of Wolf's parentage were not lost on him. For all her hatred, Penny's mother had mated with a wolf. Was it consensual? Or had a wolf done something unforgivable to her?

Eric leaned his forehead against Donna's temple, and her fingers swept over the nape of his neck, comforting him. She was very, very right. Every story had at least two sides.


	52. In the Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

 CHAPTER 52  
 **IN THE BLOOD**  


"Uncle! Uncle!" Michael shouted. Steven had him pinned to the ground in what couldn't have been a standard wrestling hold.

During a late-afternoon snack of sandwiches, Michael kept cracking dumb jokes about everyone and everything. Afterward, Steven had challenged him to a race in the wolfy playground—and pulled free from Jackie's grasp before she could object. He and Michael chased each other through the tree-enclosed field and scrambled over rocky outcrops. They darted through the bushes and got to the four giant oaks at the same time. Michael, of course, claimed victory, and Steven tackled him to the grass.

The attack hadn't been a very aggressive, however. Steven's laughter reached Jackie over the field, and it made their physical separation easier. She hadn't seen him this carefree in a long time. He and Michael were wrestling like a couple of children.

Thankfully, though, Steven soon returned to her side. He was smiling and sweaty and covered in dirt. His smell bothered her less than it would have two weeks ago, but still she said, "You need a bath."

"He's not the only one." Donna nodded at Eric, whose nails were brown with dirt and shoes were caked in mud.

"They'll get one," Wolf said. "Just wait 'til you see where I'm taking you next."

He led them from the safety of the enclosed field, and Jackie hated crawling through the underground tunnel. Tree roots scratched at her face, but what bothered her most was emerging back into Red Riding Forest. She clung to Steven, despite his earthy, sweaty smell. She couldn't lose him again to the wolves. But she was losing anyway, wasn't she? Just slowly, due to the curse.

So far, the effects on him didn't seem so bad. He was more open with her and more playful with his friends—a consequence of his breached emotional defenses. But that window of happiness would fracture eventually into a hundred-thousand pieces, leaving him broken and untouchable.

She refused to let that happen, and she thought over Hubrecht's poem yet again—the part about the curse—until Steven gave her waist a squeeze.

"Hey," he said beneath the thickening canopy of trees, "what's goin' on in there?"

"'Push through the dirt you must not spurn,'" she quoted at him. "'Climb to the sun that does not burn. Over the hills your true answer lies—'"

"'Beneath a blue and shattered sky,'" he finished. "Yeah, I haven't figured it out either."

She shook her head, exasperated. "Our love is _not_ a damn riddle! Why can't anyone in these stupid kingdoms give us a straight answer?"

He didn't say anything, only held her closer, but what could he say? A net had caught them, and they were doing their best to untangle themselves from it.

She took solace in Steven's silent touch while they moved through the forest. Wolf was speaking with Eric and Donna. Michael, meanwhile, kept to himself and guarded everyone's backs. Without Fez, he seemed miserable, and as slowly as the next hour passed for her, it must've felt twice as long to him.

Jackie's spirits finally began to lift when they arrived at their next destination. A shimmering curtain of light hung between them and the forest to the east. The light curved high above them, enveloping a huge tract of the woods in a some kind of magic bubble. Something good had to be concealed in there. She felt it in her pulse.

"What is this?" Donna said. She kept a cautious amount of space between herself and the bubble, but Jackie stood close by it, hoping they'd be going inside.

"This is a very protected and special place," Wolf said. "Only people who are in love can enter or even see it, and not many know of its existence."

Kelso dipped his hand inside the bubble. His fingers were coated in iridescence when he pulled them out, but the residue evaporated. "Was it made by Elves?"

Jackie eyed him curiously. Since when was he in love—and with whom? From the way he'd been acting lately, Fez would've been her first guess.

"Yes, long ago," Wolf said. "Different tales give different reasons why the Elves created this haven. If you'd all follow me..."

He stepped into the bubble and disappeared. Jackie yanked Steven in after him, and Steven muttered, "This better not be like Kissing Town."

The shimmering light tickled her skin as they passed through, and tiny, pleasant sparks crackled down her spine until they entered a shining glade. Everything here seemed to glitter faintly—the grass, the wildflowers, the surrounding woods. A pond up ahead sparkled like it was full of diamonds.

"Where are my freakin' shades when I need 'em?" Steven said. Colorful stars of light drifted from the pond and spread all over the glade. He batted at them, but they burst and left his hands covered in iridescence. He scowled. "Gonna be a fun night."

" _Yes,_ it is," Jackie said. She was in heaven, absolute heaven. The grass beneath her feet was as soft as the most luxurious carpet money could buy. She kicked off her shoes and felt safe enough to let go of Steven's arm. Music began trilling through the air, ethereal and intoxicating, as if she'd caused it to happen.

She danced in the glade without inhibition. No longer was her body encumbered by extra weight, and she took full pleasure in its easy, graceful movement. Her eyes fell shut as Eric, Donna, and Michael walked past her. She was vaguely aware of them, but Steven's presence shone at her like a beacon— even with her eyes closed. He'd started to relax; she sensed it. This place amplified their connection, and despite his crankiness at being here, she knew he was as absorbed in her dance as she was.

* * *

Hyde let his attention wander from Jackie for his own protection. She was too damn beautiful, man, reveling in her first truly free moment from the curse. The playful wiggle of her butt was for him, as was her infectious smile. She'd somehow sensed his gaze on her, but she deserved this time to herself, so he moved his attention to the pond.

Forman, Kelso, and Wolf had abandoned their clothes and dove into the water. Their shirts and pants lay on the grass. If Donna hadn't been standing there, Hyde could've snatched the clothes and hidden them in the woods. Would've been fun to see Forman and Kelso—and even Wolf—scramble.

The ground declined sharply beyond the pond. The glade probably overlooked a valley. They were in the foothills of a mountain range. He remembered the range from his first time through the Traveling mirror. It cut across the Second, Fourth, and Fifth Kingdoms and had once kept him company during a cold, hard night on the deck of a wooden yacht.

"Jackie," Hyde said over the chiming music, "gonna wash off."

She didn't open eyes but waved at him.

He walked toward the pond, and its bubbles of light floated into his face. They popped on his cheeks, but whatever gunk they left on him vanished within seconds.

Forman, Kelso, and Wolf had gotten out of the water and were getting dressed, but Hyde went past the pond to the edge of their magical hidey-hole. He'd been right; a green valley rolled out far below them. The scene was peaceful. Not a bad place to plunk down, smoke a joint with his chick, and enjoy nature. Too bad he didn't have any stash left. Or his shades. The wolves had stripped him of everything—including, almost, his life.

He returned to the pond. It resembled a pool of light more than water, but he stripped down and submerged himself. Donna had promised to guard his clothes. He didn't need Forman and Kelso using his own tactics against him. They'd seen him naked plenty.

After a brief underwater swim, he surfaced, and rainbows coated his skin. They sloughed off with the dirt, leaving him cleaner than he'd felt in months.

Donna scampered away as he emerged onto the grass. He redressed quickly, sloppily. He'd buttoned his shirt wrong, but across the glade, Jackie was still dancing. He dashed back to her, wasting no time to make himself presentable. Water was dripping from his wet hair and onto his face, and he resisted the urge to cross his arms. His dunk in the pond had made him cold.

"I'm back," he said, and her eyes opened. Had they been shut this whole damn time?But she was beaming at him now, and the chills evaporated from his skin. The late-afternoon sunrays had nothing on her.

In all his crappy years, he'd never imagined someone would look at him that way. Her eyes asked little from him. They simply delighted in who he was, and joy spiraled out from his center. He couldn't stop it, and he grinned like a moron until a memory passed over him like a cloud. Jackie's gentle brown eyes became steel blue. Contempt replaced love. It elicited an involuntary shiver from him, but he brushed the memory aside.

Not quite in time, though. Jackie had quit dancing and ambushed him. She leapt into his arms, but he wasn't ready. They fell onto the grass—so damn thick it cushioned them—and she didn't miss a beat. She straddled his hips and planted her hands flat on his chest. Her lips kissed his face all over but avoided his mouth. Then she spent a good amount of time teasing his earlobes with her teeth and sucking on his neck.

_Holy hell,_ did she know how to work him up. He grunted as pleasure coursed through his body and taunted him with the promise of more. His hands slid over her back, but he needed all his strength not to thrust into her right there on the grass.

He was painfully hard when she finally stopped her assault. "You missed a spot," he said and ached to press his mouth as deeply into hers as possible.

"Oh, I know." Her fingers swept across his lips and tapped them. "You have have to earn that one."

"What's the price?"

She climbed off his body, "Dance with me," and sashayed around him like a Goddamn nymph. The glade's music sounded like a chorus of bells. Nothing near his style, but it fit her rhythm perfectly.

He pushed himself to his feet and grasped her hips. Her arms slid around his waist, and she let him lead the dance. But what he really wanted to do with her was too dirty to classify as dancing.

A few minutes later—or maybe it had been hours—she cupped his cheeks and gave him the kiss he'd been waiting for. The heat of her mouth and the skill of her tongue sent his arousal into overdrive, but his mounting euphoria faded into an innocent kind of glee. Jackie's hips disappeared from beneath his hands, and another set of hips bumped into his playfully.

The switch felt completely normal. Elvis's "Jailhouse Rock" bounced from the radio as his mother cleaned up their living room. Hyde helped her by picking up Bud's beer bottles, but she'd taken a break from sweeping dust to dance with him—and he laughed like the five-year-old he was when she continued to bump hips with him.

She dropped a kiss onto his curly head, but the comforting feel of it became lost in pain. The sharpness of her teeth had overwhelmed him, sinking into his earlobe. She was biting him now at Fatso Burger. The fast food joint's bright colors stung his eyes, and The Archies had taken over from Elvis. Five years had passed. He was ten, and life had clearly "improved".

The smell of grease saturated the air. His mother was drunk, and Hyde's crime had been ordering coffee to sober her up. His knees buckled at the pressure on his earlobes. Her teeth were chomping the left one while her fingers pinched the right, nearly tearing it off.

He shoved her back. "Get off me, you fucking psycho!"

"Steven?"

The pain vanished from his earlobes as the memory vanished from his mind. The sparkling glade surrounded him again, and Jackie stood several feet away, glaring at him.

"What?" he said.

"You just pushed me away and called me a 'fucking psycho,' that's what."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did. Why? Why did you do that?"

He stared back at her. Last he remembered, she was kissing him into incoherence. He rubbed his earlobe and gave himself a moment to think.

"I was just..." His fingers closed around his earlobe, pinching it, and the memory resurfaced. _Jailhouse Rock..._ "I..." _Dancing with his with his mother, and the smell of grease—being bitten._ "Had a weird flashback," he said. "Toking as much as I have'll do that."

"A flashback? About what?" Jackie approached him with crossed arms, and her eyes no longer shone with peace but tears.

"No. It was nothing."

"Who was it about, Steven?"

_Edna,_ he said in his mind, but only a grunt escaped his throat. Not because he didn't want to tell her, but the word wouldn't come. "Like I said, it's nothing." He scratched the back of his neck and sucked in a deep breath. "I really pushed you?"

She uncrossed her arms and grasped his hand. She wasn't afraid to touch him, and his relief about that fact braced him against her answer. "No," she said, "it was more like a _shove._ "

* * *

Eric and Donna had just enjoyed a fantastic, thought-depriving twenty minutes of making out. The cushy grass was made for fooling around in. Much better than Mt. Hump, and once Eric pulled away from Donna's flushed face, all he could say was, "Wow."

She nodded. "Wow."

Whatever magic this place contained had dampened his anxiety like the circle. Donna seemed pretty relaxed herself. She laughed easily and often, but Kelso wasn't fairing so well. He sat on the glade's rocky ledge alone and stared out over the valley.

Eric hated to leave his lady, but someone needed to help Kelso. Eric stood up from the grass, prepared to give a pep talk, but Jackie got to Kelso first. She probably knew him better than anyone, maybe even more than Fez did. She sat next to him and patted his knee, and Hyde's scent reached Eric's nose a moment later.

Eric turned to face him, surprised at Hyde's separation from Jackie. From the moment they'd entered the glade, Hyde and Jackie had ignored everyone else, so what was going on?

"Hey, Forman, can we..." Hyde nodded to the woods. He was asking to talk.

Donna rose to her feet, "I'll be over there," and pointed at the pond. Wolf was on his hands and knees, lapping at a brook feeding the pond. The sight should've been funny, but Eric easily imagined himself doing the same thing.

"Don't make out with him," Eric said.

She rolled her eyes, but they went to the pond together, hand-in-hand. Hyde walked beside them, but he and Eric left Donna behind by following the brook into the woods.

The trees opened up into a meadow. Wildflowers blanketed the ground in greater numbers than they did in the glade, and the sinking sun washed everything in orange-gold. A few sparkles from the pond straggled in through the trees, but the meadow seemed very private. So private, in fact, that Eric had a hard time hearing Donna's conversation with Wolf. Only the murmur of their voices broke through.

Hyde didn't seem to be taking any chances, though. He kept silent as they crossed the meadow. A gazebo stood at the far end, near the meadow's tree-lined boundary. Its opalescence cast rainbows on their faces until they sat on the benches inside.

They spent a good minute in the quiet with Hyde staring down at his boots. Then his gaze lifted, and he said, "How do you deal with it, man? Feeling things?"

The question caught Eric off guard. He sputtered, unable to form an answer.

"I shoved her," Hyde said. "Jackie. I was remembering something—" A choked cough garbled his words. He cleared his throat, but more than phlegm seemed to be blocking his speech. He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge his nose. "Fuck."

Something was wrong. Eric clutched the ring beneath his shirt. The curse had to be tightening its hold. "Hyde?"

Hyde opened his eyes, "Yeah. I wasn't shoving Jackie in my head. It was someone else, but I did it to Jackie here, _now._ "

"Who was it?" Eric said, and Hyde shook his head as if he couldn't answer. "Okay, I'll guess. Your mom?" Hyde sighed, and his shoulders slumped. Eric was right _._ "You were remembering something about Edna, huh?" He knew little about Hyde's mother, but the little he knew wasn't good. "So..." he drummed his fingers on the bench, "what's it like being related to a monster?"

"You should know," Hyde said. "You had Laurie as a sister."

Eric's muscles tightened, but he swallowed the growl rising from his chest. Hyde was way off base, but Eric hadn't been exactly sensitive, either. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Hyde beat him to it.

"Sorry. Below the belt."

"Yeah, mine, too," Eric said. "I'm sorry. I just... I'm still having a hard time with the whole wolf-thing and my aunt... Penny's mother. She was responsible for so much pain, and innocent people died because of her. She started a Goddamned civil war—"

"But you didn't." Hyde's eyes were looking at him now, too intensely, and Eric broke his connection with them.

"Man, Hyde..." Eric peered up at the gazebo's white, wooden ceiling, "you really are cursed, aren't you?"

"Yup." Hyde cleared his throat again. "I carry it with me, man, the shit that happened. And it's bein' kicked up like dust. Getting hit sucked, but the worst part was knowing your own dad didn't give a crap about you, and your ma resented you so much she made your life miserable... _my_ life miserable."

He chuckled sadly as his thoughts seemed to consume him, but he eventually spoke again. "Makes you think _you're_ crap, y'know? But I had enough people around who gave me better. Like my uncle Chet... and _you._ " He smacked Eric's knee, and Eric finally met his gaze. "Kinda gave me hope it wasn't me but _them_ who were fucked-up. Well, _more_ fucked-up than I am."

Eric's stomach clenched. Hyde's honesty astonished him, and he fought the urge to yank Hyde into a hug. "Yeah, it wasn't you, man," Eric said instead and patted Hyde's shoulder awkwardly. "You always looked out for the smaller, scrawnier guy."

"And they don't come scrawnier than you." Hyde smirked, but his cockiness sank back into sincerity. "Or kinder... like your mom. You got a lot of her in you."

"I should have more Red in me," Eric said and immediately regretted it.

Hyde's sincerity had exploded into laughter. He leaned back on the bench and held onto his belly. "You—you got more of him in you than you know, man. Like his foot... in your ass!"

Eric shrugged, "At least it's just his foot," and Hyde grinned with delight. He was still laughing, but when the laughter faded, Eric knew how answer his question: "It's worth it."

"What is?"

"Feeling things. It's worth the risk." Eric nodded at his own words. "Sure, you could get hurt, but the heart is kinda like a sink."

Hyde arched an eyebrow. "'The heart is like a sink'?"

"Yeah, just hear me out. One faucet pours out happiness, right? And the other spits out pain. But in order to turn off the pain-faucet, you also gotta turn off the happy faucet. So by clogging up the sink, you won't feel pain, but you also don't get to enjoy laughing at your friend's expense."

Hyde said nothing but appeared to be deep in thought. Maybe he was absorbing what Eric had said. Eric had to process some of it himself, but Hyde soon returned Eric's awkward pat to his shoulder.

Eric didn't have to process what that gesture meant. It was a thank-you.

* * *

Donna and Wolf sat at the pond. Their shoes were off and their pant legs were rolled up. The bright water glittered around their calves and made Donna's skin feel refreshingly clean—a stark contrast to Wolf's gritty remorse. Tears had risen in his eyes as she told him about the wolves' attack on Hyde, how they'd turned him into a blood-soaked bag of meat.

"Grayhead is holding all humans accountable for his loss," Wolf said. "Wolves mate for life. They fall in love only once, so when a wolf's mate is taken from him, it can make him very... _unhappy._ "

His last word was more of howl, and it pained Donna's heart. She hadn't meant to upset him. "Did you lose your...?"

"No." He scratched his temple twice, three times... kept scratching it until his perfectly-coiffed hair fell over his forehead. "My mate is quite safe in the Tenth Kingdom."

"In Wisconsin?"

"New York."

"How did you get there?" Donna kept her tone casual, but gnawing curiosity compelled her to crack her knuckles. The habit was a nervous one she needed to rid herself of, especially before she became a world-class journalist.

"After King Fez's coronation," Wolf said, "and your friend Kelso stabbed my tail—I fled through the Traveling mirror. I went east until I made it to a forest surrounded by hundreds of tall, skinny castles—"

Donna smiled. "Skyscrapers."

"That's what Virginia called them, too." He pulled his feet from the pond and leapt up. His hands covered his heart, and he said theatrically, "Oh, she's the creamiest, dreamiest girl, Donna! A waitress who wants to open a restaurant of her own. But she wouldn't have anything to do with me until I had—"

"Extensive therapy?"

"Yes. I was able to overcome my flaws—well, most of them _—_ and I wooed her until she became mine."

"You didn't use your little eye-trick, did you?"

Wolf gasped and crouched back down to Donna. "I would never! No, it was a fast and intense courtship. She understands my mission here, and she's waiting patiently for my return. But it won't be easy an easy task, returning to her. Humans andwolves may both pay the price for Grayhead's rage."

"Do you think..." she glanced through the trees, hoping Eric would emerge from them soon, "do you think the Second Kingdom will erupt into another war?"

Wolf frowned. "I don't want to, but— _huff-puff_ —war may be unavoidable."

* * *

They valley below the glade put Jackie in the mind for romance. The view was perfect for a picnic, but she had the wrong company beside her. Michael barely acknowledged her presence—or her concern for him—and she was very close to pinching his arm.

He always made a good outlet for her discomfort. She'd been testing herself, to see how long she could tolerate being physically apart from Steven. Despite his strong presence in her chest, he seemed a world away with those woods between them. Every second that passed urged her to chase after him, but she stayed put.

"Jackie," Michael finally said, "did you like it when we had sex?"

She forced her focus from the trees back to him. "I liked parts of it."

"Yeah," an impish smile lit up his face, "you were pretty kinky."

"Oh, I was _not_ kinky."

"Sure you were. I'd call doin' it in public places kinky." Glittering bubbles floated in front of his face. They were from the pond, and he popped them with his finger. "The photo booth at the mall," he said and popped more bubbles, "the Vista Cruiser... oh! Remember when we did it at the funeral for Eric's grandma? In the coat room?" The bubbles' iridescence was dripping down his wrist, but it evaporated. "Man, that was hot. You were so loud. I thought everyone would know what we were up to 'cause you were getting off so much."

"And do you know why that is, Michael?" she said. "I liked the possibility we might get caught. I _needed_ those kinds of thrills to get off with you because there was nothing in your eyes but lust. I'd tried to convince myself it was the same as love..." She looked out over the valley, and in the light of the glade, the hills reminded her of waves. "But it wasn't love, and I needed so much more to be satisfied. But when Steven and I do it in public places—"

Michael put up his hands. "Whoa, whoa, I don't wanna know that stuff..."

"Too bad. You need to hear it. When Steven and I duck into the bathroom at the movies or I make him pull his car over, it's not that I need a thrill. I'm impatient, and I want him when I want him. What he has in his eyes for me..." last night's love-making rose over her memory like the sun, the way Steven had touched her, how he'd spoken, "cheap thrills aren't necessary."

"So you have boring sex."

"Oh, no..." she sighed and lost herself to the memory, "it's glorious."

After a minute or two, Kelso broke into her reverie. "Jackie, I'm sorry..." his voice softened to an uncharacteristic timbre, "for all the crappy things I did to you. I'm sorry for taking back my original apology about cheating on you, and I'm sorry for justifying all the hot action I got at your expense. I'm just... sorry."

Jackie kept her mouth shut, afraid to interrupt him. He'd only sounded this earnest with her once, on a Valentine's Day long ago, during that apology he'd taken back. But why he was speaking like this now?

"And I'm glad you and Hyde are right for each other," he continued, and his voice cracked, "because we really weren't—no matter how much I liked doing it with you." His gaze lowered. "I hope you believe me."

"Oh, Michael..." she put her arm around him. "I believe you."

He rested his head on her shoulder. "Thanks."

She combed her fingers through his hair. He truly was growing up, but... "Wait," she shrugged him off, "you're not in love with me?"

"No... At least, I don't think I am."

"Then how did you get inside this place? The Elves made it so only people who are in love could enter."

"I'm in love with _someone,_ I just don't know who."

She let out a laugh. "You don't know who you're in love with? How is that even possible?"

"I've become a very complicated man, Jackie, and I've nailed thousands of chicks. It could be anybody."

"Like Fez?"

"No!" Several of the pond's bubbles exploded at the force of Michael's voice, and Jackie laughed harder.

* * *

Jackie was elated. Steven had finally returned after his talk with Eric, and he'd invited her to lie on the grass with him. She settled into the crook of his arm, and they looked up at the stars together. Tonight was a new moon, so the sky was especially dark. Fortunately, everything in the glade had its own glow, so she could enjoy the night's beauty without fear.

The music her dancing had stirred up was long gone, replaced by a churning in her stomach. Dinner had consisted of a variety of sausages. They were the safest food to travel with, and she'd put up with the heavy meal. She was relieved to have anything to eat at all, but her body seemed to disagree.

Steven touched her stomach gently. He must have heard it complaining. "You feelin' okay?"

"Wonderful, Puddin'," she said, and she was telling the truth. Watching the night sky with him had been a long-unfulfilled dream. "But I can't find any familiar constellations here. Daddy and I used to go stargazing a lot when I was a girl."

"Huh. Guess there are things about yourself you didn't share with me, either."

"I never told you about that?"

"Nope."

Soon afterward—and much to her disappointment—Steven asked her to go with him through the woods. She'd had enough of trees, but she let him drag her out of the glade. The woods opened into a meadow littered with flowers. A pearly white gazebo lit up the meadow better than the full moon would have.

"Look at these flowers," he said.

She gave the flowers a cursory glance. "The glade has the same ones, just less of them. I was so comfortable back there, Steven. Is this all you wanted me to see?"

"No, man. These are different. I can use 'em."

"For what?"

"Gimme a minute. I'll show you."

He put his knapsack down in the meadow, and he sat next to it among the flowers. She joined him, though she would've preferred sitting in the gazebo. "Why'd you bring your bag with you?" she said.

"Supplies."

He took out a small knife and cut several wildflowers. They looked like marigolds, and he wove them into a crown, using the knife and skills she was shocked he possessed. The orange petals shone like gold in the gazebo's light.

"It's beautiful," she said, and he put the crown on her head. "How do I look?"

"How do you think?"

By the adoring expression on his face, she guessed incredible, but she had to see for herself. She stood up and pulled him with her, and they ran back through the trees. At the pond, however, her reflection brought her to tears.

"I'd make such a gorgeous bride..." She touched the crown's petals gingerly. The way things were going... "God, Steven, are we ever gonna have our chance?"

His arms slid around her from behind. His fuzzy cheek nestled against her face, and he held her close. "Far as I'm concerned, we're hitched already."

She covered her mouth; he'd rendered her speechless.

"We just don't have the piece of paper yet." His grip loosened on her waist, and she turned around in his arms. He was grinning happily, which caused her breath to hitch. "In here," he tapped his forehead, "I've been calling you my wifey for a while."

"Oh, my God." Currents of super-heated excitement rippled through her. She didn't know what to do with herself, whether she should keep on crying or laugh or rip off all his clothes.

He made the decision for her. He withdrew from her embrace and darted back through the trees. He'd started a game, a convenient way to avoid any questions she might have. They were bubbling in her brain, but she let them froth and chased after him.

He was faster than she was, but he often made tactical maneuvering errors. His mistakes evened the field whenever they played tag, and he made such a mistake now—going the long way around a dense cluster of trees. Jackie was small enough to scoot through it and snatched the hem of his shirt.

"Base," he said breathlessly and held onto a narrow tree trunk.

"There is no base." She tagged him with a peck to his lips. Then she surged ahead into the meadow.

"Hey, gimme more than that!" he shouted.

She spared a glance back at him. "Catch me, and you'll get it!"

* * *

Joy pumped through Hyde's veins with every beat of his pounding heart. Chasing Jackie was like hunting the wiliest of foxes. She zagged when he zigged, as if she could anticipate his moves, but he'd eventually overtake her. Their first game like this had been in the Nine Kingdoms, too, but many games followed back in Wisconsin. She was being particularly crafty tonight, using the light from the gazebo to distract him...

But the gazebo dissolved, along with the meadow's wildflowers. Jackie was still running from him through the grass, but the wreath of marigolds no longer crowned her head. The wind whipped her hair into her eyes, and the sun was shining, and none of it seemed out of place to him. They were at Pleasant Field in Mt. Hump Park. She'd driven him there, making him take a day off from work.

He'd been punching in extra hours at Grooves to earn dough for their wedding. She knew his reason for working six-day weeks, but her concern for him seemed to trump everything else. Climbing outcrops with her and tackling each other in the grass did him good. It flushed the mental fatigue from his skull. Working so damn hard could get a guy to forget what he was working for, but she reminded him with every laugh she let loose—and the ones she pulled from deep inside himself.

"Come get me, you slowpoke!" she shouted. She'd raced up Pleasant Field's smallest outcrop, and he climbed after her, but the rocks turned to carpet beneath his boots. The blue sky became the gray lockers of his junior high school, Old Maine. He was walking down the hallway toward a short Kelso, a short Forman, and a tall Donna, and again the transition didn't feel strange.

A brunette chick had Kelso's full attention. "Poor people do not know how to dress, Michael," she said. "They're always wearing grubby T-shirts and ripped jeans, so you need to stop dressing like them if you want to be elected class president." She fluffed her hair and cast Hyde a disparaging look, but she ducked into a classroom before he could retaliate.

Her remarks had been a freakin' dig at him. Had to be, man. He scowled at the open classroom. "Who the hell is that?"

"You should know," Kelso said. A dumb smile was plastered on his face. "She's so hot, man. Jackie Burkhart."

"She's not hot," Forman said and glanced at Donna. "She's annoying."

"Damn annoying," Donna said.

"Right..." Hyde ran his knuckles over his cheek. His sideburns had grown in, and they'd gotten him some tongue from older chicks—mostly freshmen and sophomores at Point Place High. Benefit of hitting puberty early, not that Donna seemed to notice them. "Jackie's that rich, snobby bitch who thinks she's too good for everyone," he said. "I tried to block her out, man. Her name sounds like a cat puking up its own hair."

Forman and Donna laughed, but a shrill, "IT DOES NOT!" cut their amusement short. Jackie stomped out of the classroom, arms full of construction paper, bottles of glue, and safety scissors. Still, she managed to jab Hyde in the chest with a finger. "And what's your name?" she said. "I need to tell my daddy, so he can tell the principal who to suspend."

Hyde smirked. "Like I'm gonna tell you."

"It's Hyde," Kelso blurted, and Hyde slammed a fist into his shoulder.

"'Hyde'?" Jackie threw her head back and cackled. "'Hyde'? That's so stupid!"

"And Jackie ain't?" Hyde pretended to cough. "J-hackie! J-hackie!"

Forman and Donna laughed again. Even Kelso started to chuckle and said, "Wow, it does sound like a cat puking up a hairball."

Hyde clutched his belt buckle and stared at Jackie derisively. "Told ya."

"Ooh, I hate you!" she shouted, and her foot collided with his shin before she ran off.

The pain in his leg burned, and he tried to rub it away. "Bitch," he muttered. His friends would probably lay into him for getting kicked by a chick, but they were gone once he straightened up. So was the hallway. The meadow had returned, cloaked in night.

"Come on, Steven," Jackie waved at him from the gazebo, "catch me!"

He ran after her again. She tried to fake him out by dashing left before going right, but he caught her around the waist. She giggled as he lifted her into the air.

"Fuck, I love that sound," he said.

"Then give me a little, too." Her feet were back on the ground, and she glided her hands beneath his shirt and tickled his chest. His muscles tensed, and she moved her fingers down to just above his hips. He burst out laughing and grabbed her wrists, but she hooked her leg behind one of his and threw him off balance. He crashed onto the grass and flowers, unhurt.

Seconds later she was on top of him. She took full advantage, tickling him in every damn sensitive spot he had. He laughed until his body ached, and when he'd had enough, he said, "J—J—J—" It was her name he was trying to say, but it refused to be formed.

His laughter wasn't the cause. Her name had been robbed from him, just like "doll" and "Grasshopper". The curse was simultaneously making him spill his guts and stealing his words. But he didn't want Jackie to know that, not yet. Luckily, his laughter made a good alibi.

"Sunlight," he said, "cut it out!"

"I don't think so," she said. "I owe you."

She was right. He'd tickled her too many times while she wore the ring—to get her to take the ring off—but she hated being tickled, so he took his punishment like a man, laughing helplessly beneath the onslaught of her fingers.

* * *

"Sounds like someone's having fun," Eric said.

"Well, it's not me." Kelso tossed his cards at him. "I got nothin'."

They were playing poker by the shining pond with Donna and Wolf. Kelso always brought a deck of cards with him on missions when he could. He'd bought this one in Gingerbread Town, and winning should've been easy. Wolf and Donna's tells were obvious, a twitchy tail and raised eyebrows. Eric had a load of worries, and worries meant distraction, but Kelso couldn't out-bluff him.

Eric pointed to the woods. "Hyde and Jackie. They're laughing up a storm. Hearing anything through those trees is hard, so they must be having a riot or something."

"Or something," Kelso repeated and abandoned the card game.

Donna tugged on his pant leg. "Where are you going?"

"I took took an oath."

Kelso disappeared through the woods but was careful not to cross into the meadow. He flattened himself on the ground and took cover behind a broad tree, and he peeked one eye out. All his stealth was needed to spy on Jackie and Hyde undetected.

Jackie was straddling Hyde's hips in the grass. Some kind of flower crown was on her head, but it slid off as Hyde buried his hands into her hair. He began to make out with her, and Kelso should have left them alone. Watching them fool around was the wrong thing to do, especially without Fez to watch with him. But Kelso remained on the ground as Jackie pulled off Hyde's shirt. Her palms smoothed over his stomach and chest tenderly, and Hyde unbuttoned her blouse.

Jealousy blazed through Kelso's blood, and it grew painfully hot when the sex actually started. He didn't want Jackie for himself. That was long over, but the way she and Hyde gazed at each other and touched each other while screwing—man, it was like nothing he'd ever seen. Their intimacy frightened him, but what terrified him more was that he finally understood it.

And he wanted it for himself.

To have that kind of love and strength to draw on when he was alone—or even dying? Fez had kissed his Duergar wound away, but what if Kelso had been chewed up by wolves? Would Fez have enough tears to save him? Enough love? Fez loved Big Rhonda like that, not him. But Kelso didn't want a dude to love him that way but a chick...

A chick with soft brown eyes and shiny brown hair. Someone who made butterflies dive-bomb his guts just by being in the same room with him.

Jackie was crying out in pleasure now, and Hyde was calling her something like "Sunshine" or "Sunlight". Again, Kelso should have slunk away, but like a good movie, he needed to see the end. Hyde sounded so weird, as if every thrust inside Jackie were a gift. Maybe the curse was making him sound that way, but Kelso doubted it. Jackie had chosen Hyde over himself for a reason.

Hyde sped up his strokes, and Jackie whispered something to him Kelso couldn't make out. Hyde whispered something in response, and it must have been something amazing because she clutched his back, and her body rose to meet his, and she shouted, "Oh, God—Steven!"

She was coming. Hyde's freakin' words had made Jackie come.

"Damn it!" Kelso yelled, and he slapped a hand over his mouth. Then he crept back to the glade.

* * *

Making love to Jackie used to steal Hyde's ability to speak, but since she'd taken off the ring, words tumbled out of him like rocks in an avalanche. Finally, he could tell her what she'd wanted to know back in Point Place, what she'd just asked him again: _What did it feel like to be inside her?_

"Like you're in my blood," he whispered, "I fuckin' feel you inside _me_..."

"Oh, God—Steven!"

Her face and voice during climax were usually enough to yank him over the edge with her, but an uninvited guest had joined the party. Kelso's outburst of "Damn it!" had distracted him.

Jackie cradled Hyde's face and brought him back to her. "Baby?"

She hadn't seemed to hear Kelso, and Hyde was too close to coming to pull out. He'd deal with their Peeping Tom in the morning... or someday. He was kissing Jackie too deeply right now to care. The sensation of her expelled everything else from his mind, and finally he let himself go.

* * *

Ten minutes or so after Kelso returned from the woods, Donna had fallen asleep on Eric's chest, but Eric couldn't close his eyes. The moon was calling to him. The merest sliver of it had cut into the sky, and it seemed to wax as the minutes and hours passed. The stars, too, appeared to be streaking above him.

But that was impossible. Only two weeks had passed since the full moon, and tonight the sky started out with no moon at all. He had to be dreaming...

Crazy, wolfish dreams.


	53. Suspicion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. "Suspicion" (P) 2001 BMG Entertainment.

CHAPTER 53  
 **SUSPICION**  


Wolf roused everyone at sunrise to leave the magically protected glade, but Eric couldn't shake the dream he'd had last night. He told Wolf about it after their brief, meaty breakfast—how the stars had streaked overhead and the new moon waxed into a crescent. "It was some kind of wolfy thing, right?" Eric said. "Like, digging into my unconscious, animalistic moon-attraction?"

"No." Wolf gestured to the shimmering wall of light ahead of them. "You must remember, this place was made by Elves. For the one night we spent here, seven nights have passed in all but the Elf Kingdom."

"What?" Donna said, and she got in Wolf's face. "How could you let us do that?" She was furious, but Eric didn't hold her back. "Wolves could've declared war already. Fez could be dead, and God knows what else has happened!"

Wolf's mouth dropped open, as if he hadn't thought about those possibilities. But then he said, "I doubt your worse fears have come true, and it was a necessary risk to take. Penny's castle is only a few hours away. She needs to believe Eric struggled with the decision to see her. With this delay, any suspicions she may have about his motives will be significantly diminished."

Eric's fingers dug into the straps of his knapsack. Wolf seemed to know how Penny thought, but Eric wasn't sure he liked Wolf's familiarity with her—or trusted it.

"Sounds right to me," Hyde said.

Jackie glared at him.. "And how would _you_ know that?"

"Before she went all 'Red Riding Hood,' she was just Forman's cousin. Hung out with her enough to pick up some things."

Kelso nodded. "Like she doesn't recognize good looks when she sees them. I mean, she could've done it with me a bajillion times, but she never went for it."

"Whatever," Eric said. "Let's just get going."

They passed from the Elves' protective bubble back into the forest. Donna kept a tight hold on Eric's hand as they walked through the trees, like she was frightened. But less than an hour into their journey, fear encircled Eric's heart like a hungry shark. They'd reached a wooden sign pointing to Queen Riding Hood's castle. It was only ten miles away now, and they had a convenient path to travel, further up the foothills of the Welkin Mountain range.

Red Caps met them at various points on the path, and they bowed their hooded heads before darting off into the woods. Wolf's presence didn't seem to faze them. How long had he and Penny known about their mutual heritage? That question—and dozens more like it—incited the shark in Eric's chest to a frenzy. Adrenaline was taking over, but he used Hyde's Zen techniques to calm himself. His arms went limp, and he controlled his breathing. The shark eventually swam to distant waters, and when Donna nudged him, he said, "I'm cool."

Four hours later, they arrived at the city of Needles, all of which comprised Penny's estate. It was situated at the highest liveable point in the Second Kingdom, deep in the Welkin Mountains, and houses were protected by the city's unscalable walls, hewn from the mountain itself. Wolf led everyone through the well-guarded city gates, into residential and commercial districts. Traversing the hilly streets was work, but eventually they arrived at Penny's castle.

The castle's east tower overlooked the entire city, and Eric spotted a strange window below the spire. The window glittered iridescently in the sun—like the Elves' protective bubble around the glade. Was that window magic? Was Penny watching them from it?

Eric pulled his attention back to ground level, where a swarm of Red Caps had gathered behind them. The cloaked girls were whispering, "He's here! He's here!" and he wanted to believe they meant Wolf, but they had to mean Eric himself. Their interest in him couldn't be good. He'd hoped for a private family reunion.

Only when Eric's group had reached the castle's metal gates did the Red Caps scatter. A woman cloaked in scarlet approached him. She threw off her hood, and beneath it were Penny's blonde hair and smiling face. "Welcome, Eric!" she said cheerfully. "I'm so glad you took me up on my offer." Then she opened her arms and embraced him.

He patted her back but didn't let their chests touch. The last time they'd hugged, she'd had on no bra. Memories of his brief but incestuous feelings still brought shame. He didn't need disgust to join the club of his battling emotions. More importantly, Hyde and Jackie's ring was tucked beneath his shirt, on a chain around his neck. He had to keep that fact secret, but Penny seemed to notice his distance because she said, "Are you upset with me?"

"No, not at all." He edged out of her embrace but grasped her arms with an air of affection, as if to say, _Let me look at you._ "I just learned my lesson—when you'd convinced me you were adopted."

"I don't blame you for being cautious, Eric." Her expression seemed overly contrite, but then she broke into a smirk. "You really _shouldn't_ enjoy hugging me the way you did the last time."

"And that's my cousin," Eric said.

Penny embraced Donna next and said, "How was the honeymoon?"

Donna glanced at Eric, and her eyes seemed to ask, _Is she serious?_ He chuckled, giving her permission to answer Penny honestly, and Donna said, "Interesting honeymoon. Who knew our vows would be tested so quickly? 'For better or for wolf'?"

"You married into a complex family, Donna," Penny said and withdrew from her, but Penny's casual demeanor raised Eric's hackles.

The words of her letter, _"Eric, you have a great destiny—beyond Point Place, beyond your friends,_ _beyond even true love,"_ were anything but casual. Was she trying to lull him into a false sense of security? Or did all of this feel normal to her—being Queen and having a wolf half-brother and cousin? None of it felt normal to him...

But the truth was, neither did his magic-less life in Point Place. Normal for him had to be some place in between.

"Hey, Penny. Lookin' hot," Kelso said.

Penny studied him, moving her gaze up and down his body. "You're not so bad yourself, Sir Kelso... or is it just 'Kelso' during this visit?"

The question was laden with subtext. She meant was Kelso here for Eric as a friend—or here as a spy for Fez? Eric hoped he answered correctly.

"Kelso," Kelso said and tugged on his jacket's collar. His rank badges were nowhere in sight. He must have removed them on the journey here. "You know..." he slid his arm around Penny's shoulders, "me and you didn't get to do it at Eric's wedding _._ You're, like, one of the last chicks in the Nine Kingdoms I haven't scored with. Wanna do something about that?"

"I'm flattered," Penny said and slipped from Kelso's arm, "but..." she moved beyond him to Hyde and Jackie, as if they'd drawn her like a magnet, "I'm surprised to see the two of you here."

Hyde kept himself in front of Jackie. "Yeah, my chick wanted a fairy-tale wedding, so we're scoping out places."

Penny grasped Hyde's right hand in both of hers. "You're more than welcome to get married in my castle."

"Thanks." He pulled his hand free, and his scent turned hostile when Penny bypassed him to Jackie. Jackie's left hand was captured in Penny's grip before Jackie could voice any objections.

"What happened to your gorgeous engagement ring?" Penny said with a gasp. "Didn't it once belong to Snow White?"

"It was too clunky for my delicate finger," Jackie said. "Steven's going to buy me a more appropriate ring that compliments my beauty."

Penny frowned. "Did you return the ring to Fez?"

"No, we sold it to a jeweler in Kenosha," Hyde said. "Got enough to pay for a house."

"Oh," Penny said, and Jackie's hand fell from her grip. "How... unfortunate."

The ring grew warm against Eric's chest, and he resisted the urge to clutch it through his shirt. Most women appreciated jewelry, didn't they? And Jackie's ring was originally Snow White's, so naturally Penny would have an interest in it. Her reaction wasn't necessarily related to the ring's supposed "great power"—thought he doubted that possibility very much.

Penny's frown faded, and she seemed to recover from the news of Jackie's "sold" ring. She waved through the castle's metal gates. "Come in, come in," she said, as if inviting people into a cozy house for tea.

She led the way toward the castle's keep, and Wolf joined her up ahead. He offered his arm, and she took it. "You've done well," she whispered, but Eric heard it.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Wolf whispered back.

"I'm your sister. Skip the formalities."

Wolf laughed, and they began to talk about frivolous subjects—such as Penny's redecoration of the castle's west wing. But that shark began circling Eric's heart again, feeding off the fear that Wolf was playing them all, leading them into a trap that had no escape.

* * *

Penny looped her arms around one of Eric's as she showed everyone around the castle, and Donna made sure to hold onto his other arm. No way in hell would she let Eric's devious cousin run off with him. He was already giving Penny the benefit of the doubt, but Donna had nothing but suspicion.

The castle's keep was more rustic than Fez's. Hunting trophies hung on the walls—boars' heads, fur pelts and the like. "Hey," Hyde said, "is this place outfitted with wolf whistles?"

"They used to be," Penny said, "but they were removed and melted down, and the silver was added to the kingdom's coffers."

Hyde didn't seem happy, but on this one thing, Donna believed her. Something in the quality of Penny's voice. Plus, no silver whistles were in sight. Donna surreptitiously patted a few of the animal pelts during the tour, but her palm found nothing whistle-like hidden beneath them.

The castle had plenty of pomp alongside its rusticity, with royal banners dangling from the ceiling and marble statues lining the hallways. Penny's attendants scurried through the keep, too—well, the ones able-bodied enough to scurry. Her attendants were either red-haired girls, like the Red Caps, or much older gray-haired women, whose spry days were long gone.

Their first destination caused both Eric and Wolf to separate from the group and speed through a high-vaulted corridor. They must have smelled lunch wafting in from the dining room. By the time Donna inhaled the scent of garlic, thyme, and sage, she understood their excitement. A gorgeous meal of pork shoulder and chicken pâté awaited them on the table, and despite her misgivings about Penny, walking uphill for five hours had given her an appetite

The dining room fit the style of the castle, rustic with touches of pomp. Old but cleaned-up animal traps served as decoration alongside dear antlers and and a bear's decapitated head. Eric and Wolf had already seated themselves at the table, but all of this seemed too easy.

Penny had welcomed them into her "home" without the barest hint of royal bearing or responsibility. Donna desperately wanted to ask her thoughts on Grayhead uniting the wolf packs. Any journalist worth her pen would've done that, but Donna was here as Eric's wife... and as Jackie and Hyde's friend. She couldn't risk their safety to satiate her curiosity. She had to play ignorant, no matter how much it was against her nature. So she sat down beside Eric, picked up her fork, and stuffed her mouth with food.

* * *

Forman and Wolf were devouring their second serving of pork, but Hyde couldn't relax enough to eat properly. His guard was up for the first time since Jackie removed the ring. Penny had excused herself as soon as they settled into the dining room, and that set off his alarms. For someone who seemed highly invested in Forman's presence, she'd skipped out on him awfully fast.

Forman didn't appear to notice, but Hyde didn't trust her, man. At Forman and Donna's wedding, she threw off so many bad vibes that he'd shivered. And her interest in Jackie's ring was anything but innocent. She had to know as much about it as Grayhead, probably wanted to get her hands on it for the same reasons he did—or, at least, to keep it _out_ of Grayhead's hands. Forman had the ring around his neck, but Hyde was gonna take it back soon as he got the chance.

"Oh, damn!" Jackie dabbed her silk blouse with a napkin. Some of the chicken pâté had fallen onto it, leaving a stain. "I only brought two other outfits with me... Eric!" She banged on the table to get Forman's attention. "Your cousin has to provide me with some clothes. I look fabulous in scarlet."

Hyde chuckled softly. Jackie's displeasure at her stain gave him some relief. Hell, it thrilled him. The curse had crushed her into schist, but she was reverting back to her original form.

"When we get home," he said and cupped her knee beneath the table, "I'm gonna ask W.B. to buy you a huge-ass gift certificate to the mall. You can go nuts buying whatever damn clothes you want."

"Oh, Steven!" She covered her heart. "You'll finally let your rich daddy pay for something?"

"Anything for you, Sunlight."

She giggled. "You've been calling me that a lot. Are you trying to make it stick?"

He wasn't, but thanks to the curse he couldn't call her anything else. He'd been keeping that detail to himself, but the time had come to tell her. "Actually," he said, "I've... I..." His words devolved into grunts, like they'd gotten stuck in his throat. He tried a few times to force them out, but it was no use. "Yeah, I've been trying to make it stick."

She ran her fingers through his overgrown curls and smiled kindly. "You don't have to be embarrassed about it, Puddin'. I love the name, but I'd also love it if you used my actual name once in a while... or sprinkled in your other pet names for me. You know, for variety."

He nodded, but it wasn't going to happen. She probably believed the curse had turned him into a complete sap. But its effects on him were sneaky. He didn't understand them all, but she'd experienced the same thing at the beginning. She'd suffered mood swings, going from petulance to passive obedience and back again. The effects eventually became less oblique, depriving her of her senses one-by-one, so what freakin' horrors did the curse have in store for _him?_

* * *

After lunch, Penny met everyone outside the dining room, and Donna's curiosity grew deeper. Penny was wearing a casual shirt and jeans now, clothing from their world, not the Nine Kingdoms. She looked like she'd gone to the mall in Point Place.

"Excuse me," Wolf said and swiped two fingers against his temple, "but I have some urgent business to attend to." He acknowledged Donna and Eric with a glance, but Penny squeezed his hand.

"Hurry back," she said.

"A wolf always keeps his bond." He kissed Penny on the cheek before dashing down the hallway.

"What business?" Donna said. She couldn't help herself, but she wished she'd had.

"I'm sure Fez has shared with you the turmoil Queen Gretel's death has caused," Penny said. She leaned against a fur pelt on the wall and crossed her legs, like she was at The Hub just hanging out. "Wolf is my ambassador to the wolf villages. There has been too much bloodshed in this kingdom, and I want peace among all my citizens. I hope to sign a treaty with the wolves that will facilitate that peace."

"Really?" Eric said, and Donna forced herself to stare straight ahead instead of rolling her eyes toward the vaulted ceiling. He was totally buying Penny's spiel—

Which she continued in that cloyingly sweet voice of hers. "Of course, Eric. I want to make our family proud, to make _you_ proud." She pushed herself from the wall and inhaled deeply, as if clearing her thoughts. "Anyway, enough of this heavy stuff. Queens deserve time to relax, too, and I want you all to feel at home here. I have something to show you."

She started down the hallway, in the opposite direction of Wolf, but Jackie said, "I really need to change out of these clothes. Can one of your attendants show me and Steven to our room?"

Penny glanced at Jackie's blouse. It had a dark stain, the size of a thumb print, and Penny said, "Oh, don't worry about that."

She took a swatch of red cloth from her jeans pocket—just like what Fez had received from the Red Caps. She removed a needle from the cloth. The needle had a bit of equally red thread through its eye, and she nimbly stitched an elaborate, glowing pattern. The thread had lit up, like the filament inside a lightbulb; and with no knot at the end of it, the thread glided easily through the cloth. Penny was sewing with magic.

The pattern faded, though, after she finished, and a young Red Cap hurried up the hallway. "Miss Burkhart," the Red Cap said and handed Jackie washcloth, "blot the stain with this."

"Thank you," Jackie said but sounded anything but trustful. She touched only the corner of the washcloth to the stain, but the stain leeched from her blouse. "Wow!" she blurted, and all traces of distrust in her voice vanished like the stain. "I could make millions of dollars selling these to housewives."

Eric took the washcloth from Jackie. "Hey, could I bring a stack of these back to my mom?"

"Sure, for five dollars a—" Jackie started, but Hyde shook his head. "But, Steven, we—" He glared at her, and she shut up.

Eric pointed to the washcloth. "So, Penny...?" He was really serious about taking some home to his mother, like he was trying to normalize a very abnormal situation. Donna had lived with two parents who used to do that—normalized the abnormal—but even their sexcapades compared little to her husband being a wolf and having Red Riding Hood as his cousin.

"Of course," Penny said. "Aunt Kitty would love them."

"Just say they're from Europe, Eric," Kelso said. "That's what I told Brooke about the magic toys I bring Betsy."

Penny dismissed the Red Cap, who took back the washcloth, then reiterated that everyone should follow her. Donna didn't like it, but what else could they do? They were at her mercy here without Fez. He'd had a week to return to his kingdom, but Donna hoped it would take him less time to get to Penny's castle.

Several hallways over and down a long flight of stairs, they came to a room that resembled Eric's basement—before Kitty had turned into a greenhouse. Instead of a shower, however, it had a closet in the corner and locked cubbies against the wall. Soft cushions on the floor served as the couch and chairs, and torchieres provided light.

"Sit, sit," Penny said, and Eric and Kelso did so without hesitation. Hyde sat down after a heavy breath. He invited Jackie onto his lap, but she chose to sit on the cushion next to him. Donna would've preferred to stand, especially armed with a sword or an axe, but she suppressed her instincts and sat down, too. Her jaw tensed as Penny went to the closet. What was she going to get, a stash? Did she think any of them would take a single puff of anything she offered?

Penny didn't open the closet, however. She turned back around and hooked her thumbs in her jeans pockets—again, with an air of casualness. "Donna, did you enjoy the Glass Slipper Ball?"

Donna flinched. "How do you know we were there?"

"I make it my business to know what happens in the Nine Kingdoms. Cinderella throws a wonderful party, doesn't she?" Penny was smiling, seemingly genuine, but Donna didn't answer. Her jaw tensed even more, and her temples probably twitched in response. Penny clearly noticed because she sighed. "I know most of you don't trust me, but I assure you, my intentions are sincere. I'm not the girl who used to 'tattle' and cause trouble. I'm a queen who has her people's well being to think about."

She stepped away from the closet and approached Eric. "You have the right to understand your heritage, Eric. You're a prince after all."

"So that's why he could feel the Princess Pea under all those mattresses!" Jackie said. "Only royalty can feel it."

Donna bit down her anger. Jackie shouldn't have revealed that information. Knowledge was power, but Penny said, "Oh, yes, I'd heard about that! News travels fast through the Nine Kingdoms. Eric, you really have become a hero to so many."

She gave Eric's shoulder a squeeze, and he chuckled sheepishly. "I wouldn't say a 'hero'."

"No, people really admire you." Penny's cloyingly sweet tone had returned. "Your heroism is spoken of everywhere, in the most lavish palaces to the lowliest of taverns. You're one of Six Who Saved the Nine Kingdoms, and now you're saving the Kingdoms again."

"Well, uh..." Eric looked away and scratched his head, "thanks?"

Donna's temples had begun to hurt. Her jaw was clamped tighter than a vise. For all of Eric's modesty, Penny's words had to be soaking into him. Donna knew too well flattery's influence on his vulnerable self-esteem...

And so did Penny, apparently.

* * *

Jackie marveled at what Penny brought out from the closet: two perfectly oval, perfectly smooth diamonds as big as her palms. They glittered in the torchiere light as Penny joined everyone in the circle.

"These diamonds," she said, "have been infused with a special kind of magic." She gave one to Eric and one to Michael, and Jackie glowered. What did those two know about gemstones, magic or not? "When different people hold them," Penny continued, "the diamonds will glow if those people have fooled around. The intensity of the light varies depending on how _much_ fooling around has happened."

"I think your toy is broken," Eric said. The diamonds were glowing softly in his and Michael's hands.

Penny smirked. "Or maybe there's something you two haven't shared with the rest of the group?"

"Whoa, no! I did _not_ fool around with Eric!" Michael threw his diamond to the stone floor, and the diamond lost its inner glow.

"Michael, calm down," Jackie said. "They were glowing because you had sex with Eric's slut of a—with Eric's _sister_ so much."

"You're very perceptive, Jackie," Penny said. "The magic in the diamonds is sensitive."

Michael crossed his arms. " _Too_ sensitive."

Steven leaned into Eric and said, "I wonder what those stones'd pick up if Kelso and _Fez_ were holding 'em." Eric laughed, but Michael's cheeks were growing red.

"Leave Michael alone," Jackie whispered to Steven.

"Come on," he whispered back. "We're just messing with him."

"I don't care. Just stop."

Steven said nothing, but he slid his hand over her thigh and patted it. That was his way of telling her, "Okay."

Donna picked up the diamond Michael had thrown, and both hers and Eric's lit up. The glow was so bright that Jackie shut her eyes.

"That's not surprising," Penny said.

Jackie groped her way up Donna's arm and swiped the diamond from her. Then she opened her eyes. Both diamonds had reverted back to their normal, unlit brilliance.

"That's also not surprising," Eric said.

The diamond was clutched in his fingers, and Jackie gestured at it. "Give that to Steven."

"I don't want it," Steven said, but Eric shoved the diamond into his hand. Not only did both of the gems glow dazzlingly white, but they also threw off sparks.

Penny laughed. "My, you two have been all over each other lately, huh?"

Jackie's face flushed. She and Steven had been making a lot of love since she took off the ring. They couldn't seem to get enough of each other. And even now—if they'd been shown to their rooms like she'd asked—she and Steven would probably be having sex now. She felt incredibly safe when they did it, like they weren't cursed.

Her body grew heated as Steven's touch rose in her memory, and the diamond left her fingers. Penny had snatched it. The diamonds stopped throwing off sparks, and their glow died down significantly but didn't disappear. In fact, the diamonds were glowing brighter than Jackie liked...

"You slept with Penny?" Eric shouted, just as the realization registered in Jackie's mind.

Hyde cast the diamond to the middle of the circle, and both gems lost their light.

Jackie stared at him. "Steven?"

She expected his expression to go impassive, for him to become aloof, but the curse had deprived him of that ability. "Look," he said, "I nailed her when she stayed with the Formans' that weekend, back when she pulled her adoption prank. That's it."

Jackie knew the prank. Steven had a picture from that day—of Fez, Penny, and himself with Eric's red underwear on his shoulder.

"You—wha—well, that's just great!" Eric sputtered and turned away from him.

"You slept with Hyde and not me?" Kelso was glaring at Penny. "What's wrong with you?"

"Michael, we were together then!" Jackie shouted; then she understood her folly. "Right... when did that ever stop you?"

Eric turned back toward Hyde. "Why didn't you tell me, man?"

"You never told him?" Penny sounded hurt, but Jackie couldn't tell if she was being genuine. "Was it because I was no good?"

"You were great," Steven said, making Jackie rue his curse-fueled honesty. "I just didn't wanna rub it in Forman's face, like Kelso did about nailing his sister."

"Oh. Well... thanks," Eric said.

He seemed to be feeling better, but Jackie's insides were becoming vapor. "I can't believe you never told _me,_ Steven."

"What good would it have done?" Steven said with a shrug. "I fucked plenty of chicks before you—"

"And one _during,_ " Michael interjected, and Jackie told him to shut up.

"But you're the only one who counts—who ever freakin' counted," Steven said, and his palms glided over her cheeks tenderly. "The rest don't matter. Ain't worth talking about."

He kissed her then, and the last remaining bits of fury dissipated. She wanted to give in when his mouth went deeper, but Donna's stupid ring cut in, singing, " _Suspicion torments my heart. Suspicion keeps us apart._ " It sounded just like Elvis. " _Suspicion, why torture me?_ "

Jackie broke from the kiss and grimaced. "Can't you control that thing, Donna?"

"It's not my ring." Donna held up her left hand. The pearl of her ring was, indeed, being silent.

"I know what it is." Penny stood up and moved to the cubbies against the wall. She unlocked one the way she had the closet, by weaving thread through a series of small holes. A dull, flat stone—the size of sardine can—was sitting inside the cubby. Jackie thought little of it, but then the stone flared as if it had caught fire.

Steven leapt to his feet and yanked Jackie with him The stone had gone dark, but it rekindled with a blue light when Penny took it.

"A heartstone?" Kelso said. "What're you doing with one of those? You're not supposed to—"

"Quit being so stiff." Penny said.

She brought the stone to the circle. Elvis's voice was definitely singing from it, and Steven pulled Jackie away. He'd encountered one of those heartstones in the Duergar pit. He hadn't told her much about it, but the experience must have shaken him up.

"Magic exists to be used." Penny clutched the stone to her chest. "Each heartstone brings out different things in different people. It can give great insight into your heart. Right now, for instance, it's connected to a heart in this room."

Donna flicked her eyes at Eric, and Jackie inwardly scoffed. No wonder she was so easy to beat at poker.

The stone blazed green in Penny's hands. "I invite you all to use it at your discretion whenever you wish." She returned it to the cubby and muffled Elvis's voice in the process. Then she handed everyone a piece of thread. "These will open the lock. The sequence of holes is three, one, four, two."

Steven tossed his thread aside. "No, thanks."

Donna, Eric, and Michael each left their threads on the floor, too. Jackie pretended to do the same thing, but secretly, she pocketed her thread. Unlike Steven, the curse wasn't forcing her to be honest.

* * *

Upstairs in a hallway, Hyde clasped hands with Jackie and waited for Penny to finish her pitch. She was trying to convince Forman to go off with her "for a while," but the sooner Hyde could get himself and Jackie away from her deceptive ass, the better.

"I'd really like to show you my estate," Penny said.

"Sure," Forman said.

But Donna stepped in. " _After_ Eric and I are settled in our room. We're tired. Hiking all morning'll do that."

"Of course." Penny rubbed Forman's arm. "I'll meet you in the great hall in about an hour. Will that be enough time?"

An elderly attendant met them just as Forman answered yes. Penny's castle was lousy with grandmas and kids, same as the rest of the Second Kingdom, and the attendant led everyone on a slow trek to the royal wing. She must've had a bad hip or arthritis or whatever, but Hyde's patience was non-existent—especially with two flights of stairs yet to climb.

"Just tell us where the rooms are," he said.

"They're in the hallway opposite these stairs," the attendant said. "There's a royal conference room through an impressive set of double doors just off the stairwell. They're Late Cinderellan, given as a gift by—"

"Yeah, got it."

Hyde squeezed past the attendant and pulled Jackie behind him. They made it up the stairs, to those glass doors the attendant described, but he didn't slow their pace. He and Jackie darted to the hallway, and he opened the first door they found.

Inside was a suite with wooden beams, wood flooring, and several bearskin rugs. He was fine with the décor, but Jackie didn't like it. She tugged hm two doors over, but the room was the same. This was a hunter's castle.

He tested the bed's sturdiness by pressing down on it with both hands. Yeah, it would do nicely. So would the rustic divan across from it, the desk, and a few of the room's other surfaces. How long they'd be stuck here was anyone's guess, but at least he and Jackie could enjoy themselves.

He dumped his knapsack on the bed, but she promptly removed it to the floor and said, "It's been in the woods, Steven. I don't want bugs crawling over me while I sleep. I've had enough of that." She took off her own knapsack, and he grinned as it joined his on the floor. "What?"

"How 'bout if _I_ crawl all over you _now?_ " He reached for her hips, but they had company. Donna, Forman, and Kelso were at their door and invited themselves in. "So..." Hyde said, "Grandma Slowpoke finally got you here."

"God, Hyde, you were really rude to her," Donna said.

Forman shut the door behind him. "Yeah, it's not her fault she's slow."

"They had a civil war here, _Hyde,_ " Kelso chimed in. "It left only wolves, hot chicks, girls _too young_ to be hot, and ancient uggos."

Jackie stepped forward. "Oh, stop ganging up on him. Try being cursed, then see how patient _you_ feel. Who cares about manners right now, anyway?" Her voice hitched, and Hyde slid his arm around her waist for support. "Any of you can go home whenever you want, but Steven and I are stuck here. Don't you get it? Even if we go back through the mirror, the curse is inside us... and it's going to destroy us, no matter where we are."

"Jackie, I'm sorry," Donna said. "I didn't mean—"

"Whatever." Jackie pulled away from Hyde and sat on the divan. He would've kicked everyone out of their room—so he could comfort her properly—but he had an inevitable, unpleasant task to get over with.

"Forman," he said and held out his hand, palm-side up, "I need you to give me back the ring."

"What?" Forman made no move to do what Hyde requested. "I thought you trusted me."

"I do. It's your cousin. Something's up with her, man."

"There really is," Jackie and Donna both said.

Kelso nodded. "Yeah. She totally wants me."

Donna slapped Kelso's arm. "No. I just can't buy her, 'Let's be the Bradys!' act. Eric, remember what her card said to you: 'You have a great destiny—beyond Point Place, beyond your friends, beyond even true love.' That doesn't sound good."

"Yeah, but the Gypsy Queen told me I had a great destiny, too," Forman said. "And Snow White told me I was 'standing on the edge of greatness.' That's just how people talk here."

"Yes," Donna said, "and I told you that _I'm_ your destiny, and I'm great."

"But, Donna..." Forman shrugged off his knapsack, and it dropped to the floor. He slipped his fingers beneath the straps of Donna's knapsack next, and he took it off her shoulders. "You've always been the greatest part of my life, okay? I know that." He knotted his hands around her back but shifted his gaze to the wall. "But what about who I am alone, as an individual? It's never been great or even that good. Just mediocre."

"That's bullshit," Hyde said, but Forman kept going.

"Penny's a queen, and I'm a prince, I guess. Maybe she wants to show me what that means, bring out my strengths. It'll make me better husband to you, Donna."

Donna gripped his shoulders tightly. "That really is such bullshit."

"Look, I have to give her the benefit of the doubt. How can she trust me if I don't show her a little trust first?"

"Don't forget why you're really here," she said. "You're supposed to find out if—"

Forman backed away from her. "I know better than anyone what I'm supposed to find out."

Hyde sighed. Forman had it tough, man. He'd already dealt with learning his sister was capable of murder. Now he had to figure out if that murderous streak ran in the family. If Penny truly was responsible for Gretel's death, Forman might not recover.

For a few seconds, Hyde battled with himself. Doing more damage to Forman's sense of self worth sucked, but Penny really couldn't be trusted. "Forman," he said, "I gotta have the ring."

"Fine." Forman scowled and pulled the chain with the ring over his head. He dropped it onto Hyde's waiting palm, but the ring burned his skin.

"Damn it!" Hyde chucked the ring to Kelso.

"Ooch! Ouch! Ouch!" Kelso flung the ring onto the bed.

Donna touched the ring with the back of her hand but withdrew immediately. "Can't do it."

Jackie stood from the divan and went to the bed. She poked the ring with her finger, gasped, and stuck her finger in her mouth. "It bit me!"

Forman, though, picked the ring up again, no problem.

"Huh," Hyde said. "Looks like you're stuck with it, Forman."

"That's because we already entrusted our love to him," Jackie said. Then she grabbed Forman's shirt and yanked him close. "Eric, if you let that skanky cousin of yours near it—or let her know you even have it—what the wolves did to Steven will look like a kindness compared to what I'll do to you."

Forman swallowed. "I'm not gonna screw this up, okay? Penny's my cousin, but you're my family."

Jackie let him go, and Hyde's doubts—though not completely alleviated—were reduced. "Yeah, okay," he said, and Forman put the ring's chain back around his neck and beneath his shirt.

Donna picked up her knapsack, and Forman followed suit. "We'll see you later," she said.

They left, but Hyde pulled Kelso aside. "Take the room next to ours," Hyde said, "between us and the stairs."

"I already claimed it," Kelso said. "Don't worry. I've got you covered."

Hyde patted Kelso's cheek affectionately. "Good."

Once Kelso was gone, Hyde prepared to settle in, but Jackie searched the room, going from the window to the the desk, from the closet to the dresser. "What're you doing?" Hyde said.

"Taking inventory. I want to know what resources we have."

He understood that. As a kid, he always had his duffel bag packed, in case he had to hit the road. After everything they'd been though, he couldn't blame her for being cautious.

She wrapped her arms around him soon as she was finished. "I hate being here."

Something he'd heard from her before. This time, though, he knew she meant this castle, not the Nine Kingdoms as a whole.

"I don't trust Penny," he said, "but she doesn't have it out for us like Grayhead. And there's no way his wolves'll get into this castle with all those Red Caps roving the grounds. We're probably safer than we've been since we went through the mirror."

"No, we're not," Jackie said. "The Red Cap who framed Michael in Gingerbread Town, she may have been working with a wolf— _from Grayhead's own pack!_ And we're still cursed." Her arms dropped from Hyde's back, and she slumped onto the bed.

Despite her fear, she seemed to tolerate being physically apart from him now. He didn't enjoy seeing her in pain, but her growing independence added to his relief. She was recovering steadily from the trauma of losing her senses, of almost losing him to the wolves.

"Why aren't you as afraid of the curse as I am?" she said and tugged on the hem of his shirt.

"Nothing to be afraid of yet. I ain't blind or deaf or mute." He sat beside her on the bed. "Curse took eight months to fully take hold on you. It's been on me only a few days."

"Maybe it just hasn't caught up. Neither of us understand how magic works, Steven. The curse could be tricking us into a false sense of security. What if it rips you away from me," she snapped her fingers, "like that!"

He grasped her wrist and pressed a kiss into its smooth underside. "Fez is on top of it, Sunlight."

"Jackie."

He ignored her and kissed the palm of her hand.

"Call me, 'Jackie,' Steven."

He looked up at her but kept her palm against his mouth. Whispering, he tried speaking her name, but all that came out was, "J—J—"

"You can't do it, can you?"

He stopped hiding his mouth with her hand. He tried to say, "No," but the word wouldn't form. Fortunately, it didn't have to.

"See?" she said. "The curse has already stolen from you. First it took your emotional defenses, now my name." She grabbed her knapsack from the floor and pulled a piece of paper from it. It was Hyde's list of people who might have wanted revenge on him. "Edna," she read, "Bud, Aunt Phyllis, 'Uncle' Larry, 'Uncle' Gus, Edna's dealer..."

She got off the bed and dragged Hyde to the desk, same as she'd done in Gingerbread Town. Inside the drawers were a bottle of ink, two quills, and paper. She took all of that out and laid it neatly on the desk. Then she pushed him onto the chair.

"You're going to finish that list," she said. "I don't care how obscure a person is—if it's your music teacher from Old Maine or whoever—write the name down."

"Yes, dear." He began to write, but Jackie wrote down something on her own roll of paper. "What's that?"

"Hubrecht's poem. I lost the other copy I'd written." She read part of it aloud when she was finished:

_To break their love, much was given._   
_A curse from without, by hatred driven._   
_Once torn asunder, love cannot be,_   
_For in them lies the Kingdoms' destiny._

"'By hatred driven," she repeated. "That's why your list is important. Everyone loves me, so Miss Muffet has to be right. Someone who hates you cursed us! Read it to me when you're done."

He wracked his brain for everyone he'd ever pissed off. Jackie lay down on the bed while he wrote, but she didn't stay there long. She returned to him and sat on his lap sideways, supporting herself by holding onto the chair. He didn't mind. Actually, he preferred it.

He put the quill down when he couldn't think of any more people and cleared his throat. "You ready?" he said.

"Yes," Jackie said, and he rattled names off the list, starting with Edna's. His voice was going to be hoarse by the time he finished.

* * *

Penny's estate was nestled against a mountainside. The sophisticated city of Needles overlooked much of the Second Kingdom and was home to museums, gardens, and institutions of higher education. The citizens seemed to consider themselves better than those in the southern half of the kingdom. They still carried old hatreds, Eric was sure, from the civil war. But where the city represented order, laid out on a grid, the woods behind the castle represented chaos. They were unkempt and sprawling and teeming with wildlife.

The Red Caps were everywhere, too—in the woods, the castle, the city—although maybe the paucity of men only made it appear that way. He'd finally caught sight of a few males, all elderly. But how did the population hope to sustain itself? Beyond the woods, the mountain inclined so sharply that it served as a natural barrier against enemies, but without an infusion of men, the Second Kingdom would perish on its own.

Eric kept these thoughts to himself as he and Penny walked through the castle's fragrant gardens. "Does your father—" he said instead, "I mean, does Uncle Paul know about all this?"

Penny had on her scarlet cloak, over her T-shirt and jeans, and she fiddled with the lace ties at her neckline. "He used to live here," she said,"but he's chosen to forget. He thinks it was a dream. He believed Grandma's story that my mother was a runaway and left me on Grandma's doorstep."

"Then why..." Eric's voice cracked, "did my mom say she saw your mother give birth to you?"

"It's a bittersweet story." Penny stopped by a rose bush and tore a pink rose from it. She began to peel off the petals. "Our cousin Penelope died in infancy, a week after she was brought home from the hospital. My 'mother'—our aunt Linda—sunk into a deep, depressive denial, and my 'father'—Uncle Paul—kept it a secret from everyone but Grandma. But then my mother dropped me off, and..."

"You were raised as their daughter."

She twirled the half-plucked rose between her fingers. "Some things are fated, Eric. You know how complicated families can be. Speaking of which, how did you ever come to believe all this," she stopped twirling the rose and gestured around her, "was real?"

"How did you?" he said.

"Grandma. She made sure I always knew who I really was. Your turn."

She handed him the rose, and he remembered another rose, dry and blackened, blooming into life. "I killed my own sister."

"What you did was save lives," Penny said without hesitation, "including mine. Tormented souls will do whatever they can to find peace for themselves. That's what Snow White's stepmother did through Laurie."

"Laurie didn't want to do—" he said, but Penny cut him off with a stern look.

"Eric, Fez's grandmother and ours were close friends in their younger days. Snow White's stepmother thought it would be deliciously ironic to have the granddaughter of Red Riding Hood destroy the House of White."

Eric crushed the rose's bloom in his fist. "Laurie tried to pull away. Snow White's stepmother forced herself on her."

"I know it's hard to hear..." Penny unfurled his fist and brushed the rose petals to the ground. Then she held his hand gently. "But the moment Laurie allowed that woman to touch her, she'd essentially signed a binding contract. Something in Laurie was drawn to Snow White's stepmother."

"What?" He withdrew his hand. "What could possible have attracted Laurie to a murderer?"

"To power, Eric. To power. Laurie and I were never close, but she did write to me sometimes..." She produced an envelope from the folds of her cloak. "I thought you'd want to see this particular letter."

He opened the envelope. The letter's first paragraphs were all about the "hot guys" Laurie had scored lately, including a congressman. But what she'd written below those paragraphs froze his breath.

_"I don't want to keep sleeping with success, though,"_ the letter said. _"I want to be successful myself, but I'm such a failure. I can never finish what I start, and I don't know how to change. First college, then beauty school. When I was a kid, I used to imagine becoming a high-powered lawyer like Perry Mason. Daddy always watched that show with me, but it's too late for any of those dreams. I screwed up too badly and screwed too many bad men. I'll never make him or mom proud..."_

The black-inked words turned into black blurs. Tears had risen in Eric's eyes. "She was just like me..."

Penny rubbed his back, as if to comfort him. "Laurie must have felt, deep down, that Snow White's stepmother could help her, but I don't want the same thing to happen to you." She removed the letter from his hands. "There are dark forces in this world, Eric. I waned to get to you before someone else did. You're vulnerable, and that vulnerability can be used against you." She grasped his shoulders and tried to focus him on her face, but she was a blonde fog in his wet eyes. "Please, _please_ let me show you how to protect yourself."

"Why? Since when do you care so much about me?"

"Grandma taught me that family has to stick together."

"Our grandma taught you that? Bernice?"

"Yes." Penny dabbed Eric's tears with her cloak, and they dried up. "I wasn't very nice to you when we were children, and I want to make up for that. I'd like us to have a fresh, clean start."

"Fresh and clean? You're asking for a lot here." He was smiling in spite of himself, unable to fight the warmth Penny had kindled inside him. He didn't trust her... but he didn't exactly mistrust her, either. "Sorry, but you'll have to choose one. Fresh _or_ clean. I can't give you both."

"Shut up and give us a hug," she said and opened her arms.

He let himself actually hug her this time, but he still kept a measure of distance between their chests. He couldn't get too close, not yet anyway. A few kind words from her couldn't supplant the years of loyalty Hyde had given him. Family had to stick together, after all.


	54. Frost on His Window

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 54  
 **FROST ON HIS WINDOW**  


Donna had spent the last few hours pacing her room—and attempting to stay sane—while Penny gave Eric the "grand tour" of her estate. She tried to take a nap, but fear-inducing thoughts stampeded through her mind and kept her awake. In the end, she went to Kelso's room and played cards with him until dinner.

Eric and Penny were already in the rustic dining room, laughing, when everyone else arrived. The two of them seemed to be reminiscing over something in their childhood, a time they'd gotten lost together at Fun Land. Donna clutched Eric's knee as she sat beside him. He and Penny were acting way too friendly, grinning like kids over their _Lost in Fun Land_ tale. They'd apparently found Red and Kitty in the vomit-inducing Spin o' Tron.

"So, Eric," Donna cut in, and she squeezed his knee for emphasis, "how was the tour?"

Eric finally looked at her. "Oh, it's incredible, Donna! First, we went to the woods behind the castle. Wild boar lives there—and deer! All kinds of birds, too, and..."

He went on, describing the woods and then the city of Needles. He spoke with the same enthusiasm as he did about _S_ t _ar Wars_ , and he quieted down only when attendants brought out dinner—a version of Venison Stroganoff with mushrooms and noodles.

Donna exchanged glances with Hyde across the table. Silently, she asked him, _Is Eric putting up an act?_

Hyde seemed to understand because he arched an eyebrow, as if to say, _Forman ain't that good at acting._

Eric dug into his meal like he hadn't eaten in days. Donna, though, ate less vigorously, and after dinner, Penny offered to show them the castle's game room. "It's not game like this," she pointed to the animal trophies on the walls, "but squash courts, billiards, and ping-pong."

"Oh, yeah, I'm so in!" Kelso said.

Eric rubbed his hands together. "I'm up for a some pool." Hyde agreed, but Donna had no intention of going anywhere but to her room with her husband.

She snaked her arm around his waist and whispered in his ear, "I _need_ you, Eric. _Now._ " And just in case he didn't get her meaning, she slid her hand down his back and cupped his buttcheek.

"Pool later," he said, voice breaking. "I have to go to my room."

Penny seemed disappointed, but she said, "Until tomorrow then?"

Eric nodded. "Let's go, Donna." He grabbed Donna's hand, and they tore out of the dining room as if a pack of wolves were after them.

Eric unbuttoned his shirt as soon as their suite door closed. His lean and muscular body was hard to resist, but she'd enticed him sexually only to get him alone. "What do you think you're doing?" she said and kept a fair amount of distance between them.

"Having my way with you?" He locked the door and advanced on her, but she hopped onto the fur-covered divan. "Hey, what's going on?" he said. "Are you scared of me or something?"

"Wrong preposition," she said. He might've been stronger than her now, but he knew nothing of tactics. J.V. wrestling and years of karate classes gave her an edge. She could grapple him into submission if she had to, so... _no,_ she wasn't scared of him. She was scared _for_ him. "Why are you acting so buddy-buddy with her, Eric? You practically ignored me throughout dinner—"

"She gave me this." He pulled an envelope from his pants pocket and handed it to her. Inside was a letter, from Laurie.

Donna read it to herself while standing on the divan, and she began to understand. Laurie's hidden feelings of failure mirrored Eric's far too well.

"I didn't forget you at dinner," he said, "but I didn't want to break the connection with Penny. It's the only way I can do what I have to do. So you'll have to share me for now, but..." he reached up toward her hand, "I could never forget you, m'lady. Even if it seems like it."

She jumped into his arms with his help, and her fingers slid up his bare back. He was being vague, but maybe he was doing so purposely. Maybe he thought Penny was spying on them, and Donna said, "Do you think Fez would like hiding in the closets here?"

He looked at her funny, but then his eyes widened with recognition. "Oh, yeah. They're really spacious."

She laughed out loud but cursed inwardly. So he did think Penny was spying on them. His behavior made far more sense now. He had to convince his cousin he was "all in," which meant Donna would get cast aside in favor of her—and that Hyde had been wrong: Eric was a damn good actor.

She tugged him to the bed, but he stopped her and said, "You sure you want to do this?"

"At night, you're mine." She shoved him onto the quilt-covered mattress and climbed on top of him.

They kissed each other and touched each other in their favorite spots, but as they got deep into their love-making, her mind wandered. How long would it take him to earn Penny's full confidence? To draw out the information they needed about Gretel's murder? Fez would arrive soon enough, hopefully with news about breaking Jackie and Hyde's curse. The Dwarf and Elf Kingdoms surely had ancient tomes that could help them.

"Donna?" Eric said, and he rose on his arms to look at her. "You're a million miles away."

"Promise me..." her hands brushed through the back of his hair, "promise me you'll never forget how much I love you."

"Never." He lowered himself for a kiss, but she pushed at his chest and kept him from connecting.

"You'll never forget? Or you'll never promi—"

He overpowered her and pressed his lips against her mouth. The intensity of his kiss seemed to hold his answer, but her doubts refused to dissolve.

* * *

Jackie awoke in the morning awash in sunlight and with an incredible need for Steven's touch. She kissed his sleeping lips until his eyes opened. His hand tangled in her hair lazily, but she withdrew from him and stood on the bed.

"What're you doin'?" he said.

She pulled off her nightgown and let it drop to the floor. A content smile spread across his face—her naked body had to be glorious in the golden sunshine—and his fingers glided around her ankle. He wasn't completely awake yet. His other hand wiped sand from his eyes, but she ached for him to be inside her already.

"Now," she said when his thumb caressed the side of her foot, "but not on the bed."

"Where?" he said.

She jumped off the mattress and landed gracefully on the bearskin rug. Then she went to the divan and knelt on top of it. The thick cushioning was perfect. It would allow love-making in one of their favorite positions.

He joined her, already hard and sheathed in a lambskin condom. His hands slid over her bare hips, and his chest pushed up against her back.. His mouth covered her neck with soft, intimate kisses, but he didn't make her wait. He entered her, and her breath caught at his physical presence, but far more than pleasure filled her body. The feeling of him, as if his fundamental essence circulated through her blood,ejected all terror from her.

She grasped the sides of his butt as his rhythm both deepened and grew faster. He was pulling himself into her, using her hips for purchase, but soon his palms smoothed over her stomach. His arms wrapped her up in an embrace, and his blue eyes captured her gaze. She couldn't focus on anything but him—on the tranquility etched in his face—and she let out a mix of a cry and a laugh.

A stunning thought had crystallized in her mind: He was so gentle with her, despite the intensity of what they were doing. He was _loving_ her through their bodies.

He was being exceptionally quiet, though. Effort and, hopefully, delight forced heavy breaths from his lungs, but his actions told her enough. His kisses, both intoxicatingly playful and tender, adorned her cheeks and shoulders. They made her hold onto him tighter, made her shudder with ecstasy. Never had she felt so completely loved by anyone in her life; and as his thrusts increased their power, as his lips lingered behind her ear, she started to come.

* * *

"You have me, Steven," Jackie whispered, "all of me. It's yours," and Hyde broke into a blissful grin.

Unlike the last two days, he hadn't blurted his feelings, but she must've seen them on his face, felt them in his body. Maybe the curse was giving him a break, letting him choose when to speak instead of yanking the words from his mouth.

"Steven..."

Her whispers grew louder as he gave her all he had. Her muscles were clenching around him, and he wasn't far behind. She cried out for him, and he dropped his head to her shoulder. Hearing his name spoken with such joy brought on his own release.

He tightened his arms around her waist and finally spoke. "Can't believe how much I love you..." He was laughing through his words, and his eyes shut against her skin. "No one like you, J—Sunlight."

Their hot cheeks pressed into each other, and she said, "Of course there's no one like me. I'm one of a kind... and priceless."

"Oh, I paid the price.." he whispered, "and I don't fuckin' regret it."

Her eyes brightened—which he shouldn't have seen—and she cupped his knee. They were no longer naked together, and she was no longer in his arms. Her brown dress from a Thanksgiving several years ago now clothed her body... _a memory._

She was sitting beside him on the Formans' carpeted steps. Beers, cold and stolen, were in their hands. Life didn't get much better than that, and he couldn't stop smiling.

"Admit it," she said. "You're thankful to have me as your girlfriend."

"I admit nothing, but you're gonna be thanking the hell outta me after dinner—when I take your 'pretty new dress' off you."

She laughed his name, "Steven!" and it lit him up like nothing ever had before, but darkness enveloped him seconds later.

Someone else was calling his name, loud and muffled through a wall. His eyes were closed. He'd been sleeping, but the stench of cigarettes told him where he was: his old room in his old house. His mother's bedroom shared a wall with his, and her voice was the one screaming through the thin insulation.

His body shivered before he fully realized what she was doing. She'd brought a guy home with her from the bar, and they were screwing.

Hyde sat up in his bed. He'd been through two years of this crap since his dad left, but tonight's edition was far worse than any other. It was _his_ name Edna cried out, _his_ name she told to fuck her harder.

He shoved the sheets off himself and searched his room frantically for his records, but they were missing.

"Mama likes it, Steven!" Edna shouted, and he bolted to the living room. The radio had been removed, too, along with the television's rabbit ears. She'd done it on purpose, to keep him from blocking her out.

"Oh, God, Steven!" Her voice reached him through her door, and he risked diving back into his room. He needed to get his sneakers, to get the hell out of the house. He didn't know if the guy she nailed was really named "Steven"—or if she just called him that to mess with Hyde's head. Either way, the punishment was extra-special.

For two years, he'd wanted her bed squeaks and bouncing headboard to stop waking him up. Yesterday, he finally told her that fact. A huge mistake. He should've kept his mouth shut.

Tonight, the frost on his window filled him with envy. His eleven-year-old heart hadn't yet frozen, and the rage burning inside him grew hotter each time his name left Edna's lips His sneakers were laced up, and his pathetic excuse for a winter jacket was buttoned. Leaving his house at two in the morning—and in the dead of winter—sucked, but he couldn't stay here.

He returned to the living room and wrapped the couch's ratty blanket around himself. Then he fled into the bitterly cold night. The dark streets stretched out before him. Forman's place was a ten-minute walk, but even if he escaped Edna for now, she wouldn't stop. She'd find fresh ways to torture him unless he ran away for good, and running away wasn't feasible. Not if he wanted to live to see twelve.

He sat on his snow-covered porch with the blanket. He couldn't flee the pain his mother unleashed, but he could grow immune to it. He had to learn how to distance himself, to—what was that book his uncle gave him for Christmas?—right. _Zen and the Art of Archery._ He had to become Zen.

The blanket fell from his shoulders. He unbuttoned his jacket and let the cold seep into him until his hands and nose went numb. Then he reentered the house and dropped the blanket on the couch.

The radiator's heat forced blood achingly back into fingers and face. Pain blazed beneath his skin, but he ignored it and returned to his room. He sat on his bed with his back against the wall—and just in time, too. His mother was begging "Steven" to fuck her again.

Over and over again, she used his name in the foulest of ways, but the more she did it, the more the name split from him until he didn't recognize it as his own... or so he thought. Another "Steven!" sent waves of nausea rolling through him, but this time Jackie was the one calling his name.

* * *

Steven had pulled away from Jackie so roughly that tears rose in her eyes. "Steven," she said, "I don't understand—"

"Don't call me that!" he said and turned away from her.

"Wh—what do you want me to call you?"

"I don't care. Just not... _that._ "

She approached him cautiously, "Okay, Puddin'," and touched his back.

He whipped around and slapped her hand away. "Get the hell off me!"

She withdrew toward the divan, and he tore the quilt from the bed. He covered his naked body with it then started for the door, but she dashed in front of him. He couldn't leave her, not like this. "Steven, _please!_ "

His face contorted into what she could only call disgust, "I said don't call me that, you fuckin' cunt—" but his eyes didn't seem to see her. They were so hard and cold, like jagged chips of ice, until they melted into hot fear.

The quilt slipped off him. He was shaking but seemed more like himself, and Jackie was half-hysterical from her own fear. "What happened, what happened?" she shouted.

He didn't answer but stared as if he were in shock

"You called me a cunt!"

"J—J—" he finally said, followed by those strained grunts.

"Baby," she stepped from the door and cradled the side of his face, "please, tell me what happened."

He grunted again. His body was so tense, trembling. Then, as if the dam over his mouth had broken, he said, "It wasn't you..."

She swept her hand from his cheek to his shoulder, unsure if he wanted to be touched. In the magic glade, he'd pushed her while they were dancing and called her a "fucking psycho". He'd claimed he was having a flashback but never told her about what.

"You were remembering something," she said, "something horrible."

He said nothing, but his body began to relax, and he inched closer to her. She was right, but about more than just that. She'd warned him yesterday that the curse could speed up its pace. Seemed like it had.

"I'm sorry." Steven shook his head almost imperceptibly. " _Shit,_ I'm sorry—"

"It's okay, Puddin'." She hugged his waist, and, to her relief, he embraced her back. "It wasn't you, either."

* * *

Hyde was dressed and on the bed. He'd hunched himself over his knees, and his fingers were clasped at the nape of his neck. Jackie sat beside him and rubbed his back. She was trying to comfort him or, maybe, to comfort herself.

"I can't call you 'Steven' anymore..." she said, and a surge of nausea hit him. He clutched the bed's quilt as his stomach contracted. His body shuddered, too, and he hoped she wouldn't notice in his hunched position, but she laid her cheek on his back. "I told you the curse would catch up with you."

The nausea had to pass before he could think, and he remained bent over his knees for a while.

The curse was devious as hell, man. He'd been feeling what he'd call "happiness" when that nice memory about Thanksgiving popped up. Then the crappy memory about Edna had broken in. The same thing happened in the Elves' glade. And on path between the original Gingerbread House and Gretel's castle. The curse had a definite pattern, and him feeling happy seemed to trigger it. A nice memory became the doorway to a bad memory, which then stole something from him—like the ability to hear his own name.

He sat up and intended to tell Jackie about the pattern, but the words refused to be formed. He didn't get it. Not being able to say her name made some sense. But holding his thoughts about the curse hostage...

No, that made sense, too. He tried to tell her about the pattern covertly, to sneak the information out, but grunts came out instead.

He gave up. "I'm sorry," he said again. "It's gettin' dangerous being around me."

"Oh, please," she said and waved her hand dismissively. "Being around me is just as dangerous. I pinch you to make a point. I kick you in the shin when you don't do what I want. I squeeze your earlobes— which you _hate—_ to make you actually dowhat I want. And back in Fez's castle, I kicked you in the 'nads, remember?"

"Can't forget. My stones are still bruised."

"Consider us even for that, and..." she frowned, and her fingertips stroked his sideburn, "my days of violence are over. I can't control you that way, Puddin'. That's what your mom did. I'll just withhold sex, like a modern wife."

Hyde burst into laughter until he realized how much worse her plan was. "No," he said. "Stick with the violence."

* * *

Jackie and Steven held hands on their way the dining room, and Michael followed close behind. She felt safer with him as their bodyguard, but Penny's castle was so _Flintstones,_ so Loyal Order of Water Buffaloes, and not her style at all. Fur was for coats, not rugs and wall hangings. And even with all the staff bustling around, the place felt lonely. Jackie's one-bedroom apartment with Steven was no castle, but it had six months of happy memories filling it up. Only sadness seemed to pervade the stone walls here.

Donna met them in the dining room without Eric. Like Jackie and Steven, she had a pouch of Wolfsbane tied to her belt and a pair of leather gloves. Michael was outfitted with two pouches, the gloves, and his rapier. He carried that sword with him wherever he went, and Jackie was thankful. She trusted Penny as much as she did Grayhead's wolves, but Penny was as missing from breakfast as Eric.

"Where's Forman?" Steven said.

"Taking a run," Donna said. "Then he's going to 'hang out' with Penny and observe her daily duties as Queen." She sat at the table and was putting on a strong front. Years of being her friend had taught Jackie the signs. No matter how stoic Donna sounded, the flush in her pale face would always give her away.

Michael was snickering. "'Observe her daily duties,'" he said, and Steven snickered, too.

Jackie sat beside Donna and patted her knee. They'd had so little time to talk with the curse taking Jackie's speech, and then her tough time separating from Steven. Her struggle must have been obvious to Donna, but Donna was struggling, too. First she'd learned her husband was a wolf, and now she had to give him up to his skankoid of a cousin.

"Donna," Jackie said, "when we get back home, I'm gonna classy-up your wardrobe. With the very, _very_ generous gift certificate Steven's dad is gonna buy me, I'll have plenty to help you out. Just because you're as broad-shouldered as a lumberjack doesn't mean you have to dress like one."

"Um..." Donna furrowed her brow, "thank you?"

Jackie patted her knee again. "Oh, and we can get facials together. That'll close those giant pores of yours right up."

"Is this the 'Jackie' version of a pep talk?" Donna said flatly.

Steven smirked. "Yup."

Attendants soon filed in, and they served a satisfying breakfast of pancakes filled with ham and mushrooms. But after the meal, a familiar pall fell over the dining room. It felt like one of those dull days in the Formans' basement, when everything interesting to do outside was closed. Gray-haired and red-uniformed attendants stood by while everyone sat in silence—almost silence. Steven was drumming his fingers on the table.

"What the hell is there is to do in a castle?" he said. "We're just waiting, man. For Forman to do what he has to do, for... _other things._ I hate waiting."

"You could visit the Riding Hood Academy for Young Ladies," an attendant said helpfully. "It's where the Red Caps are trained."

"There's also the Red Riding Hood Museum," another attendant said. "All sorts of interesting artifacts are there. Or visit the Quilting Museum. I'm fond of that one myself. Or the botanical gardens."

Jackie huffed. "What about stores? Needles is a big city, and we passed through a few commercial districts—"

"The Red Riding Hood museum sounds interesting," Donna said, and Steven—the traitor—agreed.

But Michael said, "I wanna see the hot chicks' school."

Donna stood from the table. Then she walked around to Michael and cupped a hand over his mouth. "So," she said to the attendants, "where _is_ this museum?"

* * *

Eric watched Penny for hours as she sat on her throne and had audiences with her citizens. Old women and their granddaughters bowed their heads to her, and the sight was strange. In Eric's eyes, she'd always be the girl he trapped in a revolving door.

Afterward, when the throne room was empty of all but themselves, Penny announced they'd be hunting in the woods. His stomach growled in protest, but the idea of earning his lunch excited him. Hunting was what real men did, back before supermarkets and their frozen foods sections.

They entered the woods behind the castle together. Penny had insisted he wear a red cloak like hers, and she'd armed them both with magically modified crossbows and hunting knives. "Normally, I'd bring a bloodhound with me," she said, and they stepped into the thick of the trees, "but I'm going to count on your nose and ears."

His excitement urged his legs to move quickly, but a thicket of underbrush made walking difficult. He and Penny pushed aside the folds of their cloaks for better maneuverability, and a pungent odor drifted into his nostrils. Dangling from Penny's belt were two pouches. _Wolfsbane?_ All the Red Caps carried it with them, but hers smelled differently.

"Hey, can I see one of those," he said and pointed to the pouches.

"Put on your gloves," she said.

He did, and she tossed him a pouch. He opened it, and his eyes watered at the acrid smell. Wolfsbane pellets, colored deep indigo, were inside. The _death_ variety. He tied the pouch closed and threw it back to her.

"Why do you have those?" His question was a whisper, wilted by fear. His cousin could kill him at any time, the ultimate revenge for all the pranks he'd pulled on her.

"They're not illegal in my half of the kingdom. Me being who I am, I have to be careful—especially now."

_Especially now..._ He didn't like the sound of that, but she could've meant one of two things. She needed the death-inducing Wolfsbane _especially now_ because she'd murdered the wolf-friendly sovereign, Queen Gretel the Third—or because the wolves _believed_ she'd murdered her.

"Do you have a wolf whistle on you, too?" he said.

"I should," she said and gazed up at the trees, as if answering were painful, "but wolf whistles... disturb me."

"Disturb you?"

"They're terribly expensive." Her gaze returned to him, but her tone had shifted like she was covering something. "It wouldn't be right for me to have one when I can't outfit my Red Caps with them. They face death on the kingdom's behalf daily. I have to do the same."

"Yeah... Yeah, I can see that."

But intense thoughts swam through Eric's mind, far-reaching and dangerous. And after several minutes of moving through the underbrush, he said, "I'd like to have one—a pouch of the indigo Wolfsbane."

"Why?"

"I've seen what wolves can do, and I don't want to take any chances."

"All right," she said. "When we return to the castle, I'll have a pouch brought to you immediately." She paused, considering him a moment. "Eric, I must say I'm impressed. To be willing to carry your own death with you is incredibly brave. Uncle Red would be proud."

"Thanks..." The back of his neck grew hot as the compliment absorbed into him, but he had no time to revel in it. The underbrush cleared, and the scent of wild boar hung in the air. "That way," he whispered and gestured to an uprooted tree. The tree was a half-mile ahead of them. Penny probably couldn't see it, but she seemed to trust him enough to follow.

A quarter of a mile in, the grunts and snuffles of piglets confirmed their scent. They were digging in the tree roots for food. Eric and Penny treaded softly in the leaves and dirt. They approached the downed tree, only sixty feet distant now, but deeper grunts and rigid hoof-steps scared the piglets off. They skittered into the woods as an adult boar nosed in on their meal. Its coarse, black fur was caked in mud.

"Where are we supposed to shoot it?" Eric whispered.

"Lower part of the shoulder to pierce its heart," Penny whispered back, "but we have to get closer."

"I don't." He ran his thumb over a sigil carved in the stock of his crossbow, and the bowstring cocked itself. He loaded a bolt and raised the crossbow. The boar was busy gnawing at roots sticking from the ground. Its jaws couldn't pull free a particularly stubborn root, so the boar went at it from a different angle, and Eric fired.

The bolt flew from the crossbow and lodged in the boar's shoulder. The boar didn't squeal before it crumpled to the ground.

"Nice shot, cousin!" Penny said and darted ahead. Eric caught up with her, and together they hauled the boar's 200-pound carcass to a nearby creek. They washed the mud off its body. Then they strung it up by its snout on the thick bough of a tree.

She helped him dress the boar. They used their hunting knives to strip it of its skin. Blood rolled off the special gloves they wore, made from the same material as their cloaks.

They hoisted the boar's cleaned-up carcass on their shoulders, and the faint, high-pitched grunts of the piglets reached Eric's ears. He frowned. "I probably took their mother away from them."

Penny chuckled. "It's a male boar, Eric. It had testicles."

"Oh. Right."

"You didn't kill their father, either," she said. "Even if you had, you did them a favor. Boars have no qualms about eating their own young."

"Red might've done that to me if my mom hadn't stopped him."

"Please. Uncle Red is a sweetheart."

He let out an incredulous laugh. "Maybe to the women in our family."

"He seemed fond of Hyde the last time I visited," she said.

"Yeah..."

Eric had nothing more to say on that unpleasant subject, so he and Penny tromped silently through the woods until she stopped walking. "Uncle Red doesn't know about any of this," she said. She'd taken the lead on the way back to her castle, but she turned around to face him, transferring her half of the boar to her other shoulder. "You have to understand that, Eric. Grandma couldn't bear to to tell him about his true father."

"The Big Bad Wolf, you mean."

Penny shook her head, as if he were a young boy who'd said something foolish. "'Rollin' was his real name, your _grandfather's_ name."

His grandfather. Eric hadn't thought of the Big Bad—of _Rollin_ that way. Thinking of him as a real person was hard enough.

"After the Five Great Ladies united the Nine Kingdoms," she continued, "they gave each other gifts. Snow White's gift to Grandma was the Traveling mirror. When Prince Aurick—my grandfather—learned of her affair with Rollin, that it had produced a child— _Red—_ he swore he would kill that 'mongrel' at birth."

She became silent, but her voice had grown strange, as if these were events she herself had experienced. Empathy was not a quality in his cousin Eric was used to, and it jarred him.

"Bernice was heartbroken," she said after a moment. "She'd already lost her beloved Rollin. She couldn't lose their child, too."

"But she had two other children," he said. "She left your mother behind..."

His shoulder began to hurt from the weight of the boar, but he withstood it. His grandmother had suffered so much worse, and her bitterness no longer seemed incomprehensible to him. She'd lost the love of her life and had to make an impossible decision between her children. No wonder she hated his mother, who'd essentially taken Red from her. Or maybe her hatred stemmed from his parents having what she could not: a life with the one they loved.

"Destiny, unfortunately, didn't favor Grandma," Penny said, "or my mother. She still had possession of the Traveling mirror when she got pregnant with me."

Clouds swept overhead, blocking the sun and darkening the woods significantly. They passed quickly, though, and Eric finally shifted the boar to his other shoulder. "How do you know that?" he said. "Did she leave you a letter or something?"

"No. It was during the aftermath of the Second Kingdom's civil war. Mother had to focus on rebuilding her half of the realm, so she gave me up to Uncle Paul. She and Grandma had an unjoyful reunion then, and Mother told Grandma everything that had transpired during her absence."

Penny sighed and wound a fold of her cloak around her arm. "My mother begged her— _begged_ her, Eric—to return, but she refused. The two Riding Hoods together could have done so much together, been a powerful force..." Her face twisted with pain, but like the clouds in the sky, it passed quickly. "I understand, though. Grandma had three other sons besides Red, and she might not have gotten back to them had she gone with my mother. The Traveling mirror was stolen from the castle during Mother's reign."

_By Snow White's stepmother,_ Eric thought, and his eyes widened. She must have hidden it somewhere, and Laurie—once possessed by her—got caught with it by the Fourth Kingdom guard. So that was how the mirror ended up in Snow White Memorial Prison, languishing in a storeroom. An interesting realization, but he didn't mention it.

Instead, with his half of the boar firmly on his shoulder, he maneuvered himself in front Penny. He was still facing her, however, and he said, "Guide my steps." They had to get this meal into the kitchen before the woodland critters got to it.

"All right," she said. They began to move through the trees again. "Watch out behind you—"

He narrowly avoided a mushroom-encircled tree stump, "Thanks," and walked backwards with confidence. Penny had pretty good eyes. "So why was there a civil war?" he said. "I mean, our grandmother and Gretel the Great were two of the Five Ladies who united the kingdoms, right? Why did they split this one between them?"

"The other four kingdoms already had rulers: the Dwarf King, the Elf Queen, the Ice Queen, and the Trolls. Grandma and Gretel decided to share this one. They had similar beliefs on how it should be run, but their—mud puddle dead-ahead!"

Eric sidled to the left. "More like a mud pond. Look at that!" Mud covered a good stretch of the ground. He didn't remember seeing it on their way to the piglets' feeding area. Penny was leading them back to her castle along a different route, maybe a longer one.

"My mother and Gretel the Second had very different views on the wolves, as did their citizens..." Penny grimaced and sucked in a heavy breath. "Damn it! Damn..."

"What, what?" Eric scanned her body for injuries. "Did you step in something?"

"No, I'm fine—just frustrated." She started to laugh, but her scent—so far unimpressive—became overwhelming. It broadcasted vulnerability, as if she'd been physically wounded. "Queen Gretel the Third could be very convincing. She almost had me ease my kingdom's restrictions on wolves. Except for a few stray packs, wolves aren't aggressive... or _weren't._ But Gretel's death changed all that.

"My half-brother is a wolf," she said, and her voice shook. " _You_ are. I don't want to punish a whole people for the actions of a few, but now that seems impossible."

"Maybe it isn't," he said. "Maybe it's not too late."

"Grayhead has already united most of the packs and villages. They believe in him. They'll always trust a wolf before a human."

Her first tears fell, and he wanted to drop the boar and comfort her. Somehow, though, he doubted she'd appreciate that. Penny had always been prideful. "Come on," he said instead, "you're the girl who got my mother— _Kitty Forman_ —to deprive her only son— _me—_ of dessert for a whole week. You'll figure out a way."

"I have." She wiped tears from her cheeks even as they continued to fall. "That's the other reason why I asked you to come here."

"To the woods?"

"To my kingdom," she said, and his pulse tightened. "You could convince the wolves to stand down. You could prevent the Second Kingdom from drowning in blood—by ruling it with me."


	55. Forced Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. "She's the One" copyright 2005 Warner Bros. Records.

CHAPTER 55  
 **FORCED CONFESSIONS**  


Hyde wasn't big on fairy tales, but he knew the basics of the Red Riding Hood story. Girl with red hood went to visit her sick grandmother, and the Big Bad Wolf got in the way. The wolf ate Grandma and the girl whole. A huntsman—of the sane variety—showed up and cut open the the wolf's stomach. Grandma and the girl were alive and freed. But the _Looney Tunes_ and Grimms' versions turned out to be completely wrong.

Donna's buddy Wolf had given everyone part of the true story, but the Red Riding Hood Museum seemed intent on spreading false propaganda. Hyde ignored the redheaded curator who told them a huntsman had killed the nameless "Big Bad Wolf". Maybe Bernice's first husband, Prince Whatever, had sent a huntsman after Rollin. But the prince himself was responsible, man, and Hyde would've liked to scrawl that fact all over the exhibit labels.

Fortunately, the curator didn't stick around. She went off to bother a group of grandmas and their granddaughters. Donna took the lead through the museum and brought Hyde, Jackie, and Kelso to the real goods, artifacts from the time of the tale. They were displayed behind glass with description cards, and the first items were from Red Riding Hood herself—Eric's grandma.

Her original red hood and basket lay next to each other, but Hyde had a hard time imagining the old bitch as a young girl skipping through the forest. Kelso pointed at the nightgown and night cap of Bernice's own grandmother, the things Rollin supposedly wore to trick Bernice into trust.

"'Grandma, what big eyes you have,'" Kelso said then his mouth dropped open like a botard, the way it usually did when he had a dumb idea. "Donna, you gotta get Eric to wear your grandma's clothes! You could play out that scene and have some really hot sex!"

"Shut up," Donna said, and she and Hyde frogged him at the same time.

"What?" Kelso crossed his arms and rubbed his shoulders. "Fez totally would've appreciated it."

All down the glass display were items from Bernice's life—the shoes she wore to pieces while traveling through the Nine Kingdoms, tattered letters she risked delivering during the turmoil before "Happily Ever After," and her first-born son's baby blanket. But beyond all these things was something that drew Hyde's attention. He pressed his palms against the glass and stared at Bernice's emerald ring, the one he'd tried to steal off her corpse.

"How the hell did that get here?" he said. Far as he knew, the ring was buried with Bernice's body. The one she'd worn could've been a replica, but this one had the same chip on its third facet. Hard to fake that. Had someone done what he couldn't and swiped it?

Below the ring was a card that read, "Gift from Rapunzel." Stealing something off a dead woman was a low move—even for him—but at her funeral he'd looked into Bernice's open casket and reached toward her stiff fingers. She'd never liked him, so swiping her ring should've been easy... if not his pesky conscious and those open, dead eyes of hers.

Had she somehow known what he'd intended to do? She was _dead,_ man. She'd died years before he was ever with Jackie. He'd never considered putting Bernice Forman on his list of people who wanted revenge on him, but now...

A curse from beyond the grave, on a ring because he'd tried to steal _hers._ The reason for vengeance was petty and a long shot, but Snow White's dead stepmother had grabbed Forman in her tomb. Maybe evil never really died.

"Baby, what is it?" Jackie said, and he tapped the display glass. "I don't want an emerald ring. I don't want _any_ ring right now."

The words he wanted to say turned into moronic grunts, and he gave up. "Damn it! Get me some paper."

"Donna, go," Jackie said.

Donna ran off to find the curator, but she returned empty handed. "They don't allow writing in here. The ink could stain the carpet. Why can't you just say what—"

Jackie cut her off. "He _can't._ "

Donna seemed to understand. "The curator said we could use her office. She knows we're Penny's guests."

"No good," Hyde said. "Big Brother."

His arms went limp, but Jackie grasped his hand and squeezed. "Try writing it on Michael's back," she said.

"What?" Kelso said, but Hyde already had a solid grip on his shoulder. He traced a random letter, a "T" on the back of Kelso's white jacket.

"T," Jackie read.

"That was just a test," Hyde said. "Let's get outta here."

Second Kingdom citizens and Red Caps packed the street in front of the museum. Too many eyes he didn't trust were on them, so Hyde led the way to a quiet residential district. In an alleyway, beneath a clothesline stretched between two townhouses, he tried writing the letter "B" on Kelso's back. "B" for "Bernice," but his finger wouldn't move. He tried the letter "G" for "Grandma". No use. His finger refused to obey his mind.

"Puddin'?" Jackie said and looked at him expectantly.

He shrugged, and she sighed. His inability to write Bernice's name seemed like an admission of guilt, but the curse could've been throwing him off the trail. No way to know without proof, and where the hell would he get that from? By going back through the mirror and digging up Bernice's dead body?

* * *

Kelso and his friends ate lunch in a café. The whole city seemed to know who they were—half of the Six Who Saved the Nine Kingdoms—and they were treated like royalty. They also didn't have to pay for anything, which was awesome. Kelso had no gold Fezes on him anyway, but watching Jackie and Hyde be so in love bothered the hell out of him.

She fed Hyde grapes from her dish. He kissed her at random intervals, and by the time lunch was through, Kelso felt sick to his stomach. They had something he wanted but nothing he could get. At least they hadn't caught him spying on their screw a few days ago. His eyes and beanbags would've been bruised otherwise.

A brisk walk brought everyone back to the castle. Jackie, Hyde, and Donna all retired to the royal wing, but Kelso went down the long flight of stairs to that basement Penny had set up. He kicked one of the cushions on the floor, wishing he had some of Hyde's Elf blossom, but he had to keep his mind clear. _Mostly_ clear. He still had an oath to keep, but he could have a few minutes to himself, couldn't he?

The thread to open the heartstone cubby was in his pants pocket. He'd only fake-dropped it when everybody else actually had. Heartstones were dangerous things to play with, but the Duergar wouldn't pop from the walls down here. A song from the heartstone—from _him_ —was already filling the basement. Maybe some ancient magic was just what he needed.

Joey Ramone sang, " _She's the one. She's the one,_ " and Kelso wove the thread through the lock's third hole. " _Know I'll never find a girl like you..._ " He didn't know the girl Joey was singing about, but the thread moved through the lock's first hole then the fourth. " _But in my heart, I'll always love you._ "

"Me, too," Kelso muttered, "whoever she is." The thread left the second hole, and the cubby snapped open. Inside, the heartstone burst with green light then faded back into dull gray.

He pulled the heartstone free. It flared orange, and his eyes gazed into its fiery center. The flames consumed his consciousness, and then—inexplicably—he was sitting in the grass at Mayfair Park, Chicago.

"Look at them," Brooke said and plunked down on his lap. His hands knotted around her stomach, so warm and comforting to hold, just as her laugh was to hear. Their seven-year-old daughter, Betsy, was romping in the field with a toddler. The boy looked just like Kelso except for the eyes. Those were all Brooke's...

But Betsy was only a toddler herself. How could she be seven and bouncing a yellow ball at her brother? _Her brother_! When had _that_ happened? And why did it feel good to have Brooke resting her head against his chest? The sky was so bright and blue above them, but a cool breeze kept the sun from coating their skin with sweat.

"Better than sex," Kelso whispered against Brooke's hair, and she glanced up at him. "Oh, not with you. With random skanks."

Brooke rolled her eyes, the soft brown ones their son shared, but she was also smiling. "So you don't regret giving that up?"

Betsy threw the ball at Brooke's lap, and she and her brother ran after it. They fell on top of Brooke and Kelso in the process and knocked them both to the grass. The kids seemed to find this funny and exploded into a fit of giggles.

"I don't see it as giving anything up," Kelso said and pushed himself back to a seated position. He helped Brooke up, too, then pulled their kids into his arms. "I wanted more than that stuff."

Brooke's smile deepened. "Did you get it?" she said, and flames burned away her face.

"No..." He was back in the castle's basement. "No!" The heartstone had gone dark.

"Kelso—"

Kelso unsheathed his rapier and whipped around. "Stay back, Duergar!" he shouted, but Penny had been the one calling him. She was dressed casually in a red T-shirt and jeans, looking hot. His body, though, didn't respond like it normally would have. His chest ached with Brooke's absence.

"So you took me up on my offer, after all," Penny said.

He stared at the now-dull rock clutched in his fingers. The life he'd seen inside wasn't his. "I only used it for..." _Damn,_ he had no idea how long he'd been standing there—or how long Penny had watched him. Could've been minutes or hours. He wasn't wearing a pocket watch, and the the basement had no clocks.

She stepped closer to him. "What did it show you?"

"Nothing." He shoved the the heartstone back into the cubby and shut the cubby's door.

"Oh, I don't believe that." She was only a few inches from him now, and the flat of her hand landed on his chest. "Your heart's always been searching for something, hasn't it?" Her voice had softened, but it coated him with ice. "First, between the legs of all those girls you slept with. Then with Fez..." her other hand slid over his grip on the rapier, "as his Captain of the Guard."

His fingers loosened, and the sword transferred to her grasp. She re-sheathed it at his side.

"Well... maybe," he said and shuddered. Man, Penny still had that shiny glow about her, but nothing about her was warm. The small portion of joy he'd found in the heartstone had leeched out of him. "I'm in love with Brooke."

Penny rubbed her hand over his chest, sinking icicles into his heart. "The mother of your child? I saw her at Eric and Donna's wedding. She's beautiful."

"Yeah, we met at a Molly Hatchet concert a few years back and totally did it." He was shivering now. Penny was so freakin' cold. Why couldn't he back off from her—or shut himself up? "That was the only time we nailed each other, but I like being around her anyway. Even at the concert she was awesome, singing all the lyrics with me and laughin' when she got 'em wrong. I _had_ to have her."

"But you don't have her now, do you?"

Kelso's mind told his body to move, but his body wouldn't obey. Had Penny dosed him with Wolfsbane? No, his mouth wouldn't have kept talking otherwise. "I'll never have her," he said. "She doesn't love me, and with the stupid wish I made with that dragon dung bean, she'll never do it with me again—unless we go to Europe or something."

He still couldn't believe how stupid he'd been, wishing for all the chicks in America to have sex with him. It had caused a stampede to the Formans' basement, and to save himself and the lives of his friends, he had to screw himself over. _No_ chick in America would ever want to nail him again—and that included Brooke. Donna used to call him a greedy, sub-mental dog. He never understood her man-hating feminist lingo, but the greedy part he got.

"Kelso?" Penny swept her palms over his shoulders and up the sides of his neck, leaving unseen frost on his skin and drawing out more of his thoughts.

"It's gotta be great to fuck the same chick every night and have it get better," he said, but he felt like someone else was speaking through him—or maybe it was a hidden part of his brain. "Doing different chicks all the time doesn't _feel_ any different. But I totally watched Hyde and Jackie do it, and they were happy. Not horny-happy like I am, but _happy_ -happy, and they've done it with each other thousands of times."

"You could be _happy_ -happy, too." Penny's fingertips were playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck, and he must have been hallucinating because her face seemed like another woman's. Her eyes were still her eyes, and her nose and mouth were the same, too. But her lips curled differently when she spoke. Her nose crinkled when it had never done that before, and her eyes gained a glassy quality. "True love is more trouble than its worth if you ask me," she said, "a gamble with terrible odds... but if you want it, you could have it."

Then again, he didn't know Penny _that_ well. He hadn't known she was Queen Riding the the Third until Eric read her card. Maybe this was how she really spoke. Either way, he didn't like it.

"I don't know how to be that kind of guy," he said and tried to pull her off him, but he only managed to twitch his arm. "Hyde didn't either, but Jackie changed him. He's _really_ happy—except for being cursed and all."

"Cursed?" She finally stopped touching him, but Kelso felt colder than ever. He wasn't supposed to have let out that secret.

"You know Hyde," he said and laughed. He had control over his speech again. "He's always joking around, saying being in love with Jackie is like a curse."

"Of course." Penny leaned in and pecked him softly on his lips. He expected to ice-over, but she was no longer frozen. "Fez has a good man in you. Honesty is hard to come by, and someday soon, I'll return the favor."

"Sexually?"

"No."

"There's nothing wrong with sexual honesty," Kelso said. He wanted to distract her, to drive out the idea that Hyde and Jackie were cursed, but she merely chuckled and gave him nothing more to work with—except a nice view of her denim-clad ass as she left the basement.

* * *

The wild boar Eric and Penny had caught was being prepared for dinner, so Eric settled for a lunch of roast pheasant. He ate with Penny alone in a private dining room, and she didn't press him to answer her plea. But the plea, nonetheless, was pressing down on his mind. She meant for him to rule the southern half— _Gretel's_ half—and to secure the whole Second Kingdom for the House of Red.

Penny left him abruptly halfway through the meal. She had some "personal business" to attend to," and Eric didn't ask what. His brain was at capacity with what she'd already told him.

He finished eating, including her uneaten portion of pheasant—because one shouldn't let good food to go waste—then met Donna in their suite. She sat on the bed while he paced from one bearskin rug to another. He was sharing the thrill he had hunting. "Red would've been impressed," he said. "I wish he could've seen it. The bolt shot into that boar's shoulder, and the boar just collapsed."

"That's great," she said, "but you didn't just kill an animal out there, did you?"

"No." A thought occurred to him, and he stopped pacing. "Damn! I should have brought the boar's head to a taxidermist.

"Eric!" She stood from the bed and went over to him. "What did you and Penny _talk_ about? You're stalling."

"I'm not stalling."

She raised her eyebrows.

"Okay, I'm stall—"

The door to their suite slammed open, and Kelso charged inside. He shut and locked the door behind him and said, "I told her! I told Penny about the curse. I just let it out. I was looking at the heartstone, watching me and Brooke and our son—only we don't _have_ a son—play with Betsy, and Penny came downstairs and—"

"Kelso, slow down," Eric said.

Donna, however, grabbed Kelso's shirt collar and yanked him close. "What were you doing using the heartstone?" Her voice was as loud as her grip on him was tight, and her knuckles were whitening. "You just _have_ to play with something if it's dangerous, don't you? Fire, super glue, old magic that can make you lose your mind!"

"Well, excuse me for being lonely and omnipotent, Donna!" Kelso shouted back. "Eric's got you, Hyde's got Jackie, Fez has Rhonda... All I've got are these freakin' butterflies in my head that won't stop slapping me with their wings."

"You didn't tell her anything else, did you?" she said.

"Not about any of you."

"Good." She released him and turned her aggression onto herself. Her hands slid into her hair and clutched her scalp. "God! How could you do that?"

Eric rubbed her back. He was relieved when she didn't pull away. "We have to tell Hyde and Jackie about this," he said, "but I think their secret is safe enough with Penny."

"What?" She glared at him. An interrogation was clearly brewing in her mind, but he slipped out of the suite before it could begin.

The rustic, wood-beamed hallway wasn't silent. The sounds of Hyde and Jackie's love-making reached him through their door. It was their second round today. He'd heard them this morning, too, as he left for his run. They seemed to be having a lot of sex since Jackie took off the ring. Maybe they were trying to get it all in before the curse made it impossible.

Eric returned to his suite—and to his angry wife and upset friend. "Hyde and Jackie need their privacy," he said. "We'll tell them later." Then he ushered Kelso toward the door. "Me and Donna need our privacy, too."

"Go ahead, Eric. Go ahead and have sex with your wife," Kelso said, and Eric pushed him into the hallway. "I'll just be in my lonely omnipotent room, sitting on my lonely omnipotent bed with nothing better to do than be lonely and omni—"

Eric shut the door on him.

"You think their 'secret is _safe'_ with her?" Donna said. Her face was flushed, and she continued to glare at him. "How could you possibly think that? She's got our rooms magically bugged—"

"I doubt it, but if she does, she knew about the curse already. Hyde and Jackie have been talking about it in their room."

"How do you know that?"

He pointed to his ears.

"Oh." She brushed past him to the divan and sat down. She cupped her knees, but her fingers scratched at the material of her pants. "So..."

"Listen, Donna, Penny told me some things..." He sat with her. Then he shared what Penny had said about Snow White's stepmother, why she specifically chose Laurie to finish her work. Who better to destroy Fez and the House of White than someone from the House of Red Riding Hood? "Evil people enjoy irony, apparently," he said."Laurie, granddaughter Queen Riding Hood, kills off Snow White's daughter and son-in-law; then she turns Snow White's grandson into a dog."

"Is that why Penny murdered Queen Gretel the Third? She wanted to keep up?" Donna inched away from him on the divan. "Penny's Red Riding Hood's granddaughter, too, just like Laurie was—so she had to kill the granddaughter of another of the Five Great Ladies?"

"She didn't do it," he said, "anymore than I did."

"She tell you that?"

"I just know."

"Okay..." Donna was sitting at the far side of the divan now, and she crossed her arms, "then _who_ did kill Gretel? Who else had motive?"

Eric sighed. He hated it when she got this way, so angry that nothing he said could possibly have merit—unless it matched her thoughts exactly. But anger wasn't all that shut her off. Her scent stank of fear, too.

"A rogue group of Red Caps maybe?" he said. "I don't know, but some things you feel deep in your gut, and my gut's telling me Penny isn't responsible."

"No, you only _want_ to believe that because she's boosting your ego... and using your guilt over Laurie to manipulate you."

"Donna..." his eyes started to burn, "don't you trust my judgment?"

She leapt off the divan as if she'd been stung by a bee. "I told you _never_ to do that to me."

"Do what? What'd I do?"

"That hypno-thing!"

"Oh, man!" He shut his eyes and covered them with his hands. "Sorry! It just happens."

"Whatever." Her footsteps pounded into the bathroom, and he risked uncovering and opening his eyes. A few moments later, she was stuffing her knapsack with toiletries and clothes.

"You really _don't_ trust my judgment," he said.

"Not lately." She hoisted her knapsack onto her back. "Until you trust _my_ judgment, I'll be sleeping with Kelso."

The door banged shut behind her, leaving him miffed. What would she have done if he'd told her the rest, that he had a chance to become a king?

* * *

_Three Days Earlier_

Fez and Rhonda had reached his castle at midday without incident. The Lord Chancellor—a man who'd begun in the position under Snow White herself—greeted them on the grounds with a host of black-and-gold uniformed attendants. Fez's head attendant, however, was nowhere to be seen. Aubrey's efficiency and cheerful disposition were greatly missed, and the attendants didn't seem to know what to do without him. They fumbled when taking over the horses Fez and Rhonda had ridden. They interrupted each other while trying to inform Fez of the latest Fourth Kingdom news until, finally, the Lord Chancellor took charge. He focused the attendants' attention and directed them to their proper tasks.

"Where is Aubrey?" Fez said.

"I don't rightly know, Your Majesty," the Lord Chancellor said. His old, wrinkled face was a welcome sight, but he seemed nervous. "He disappeared around the same time as... well, I better let Cadell explain it."

"All right..." Had the Lord Chancellor been a younger man, Fez would've demanded the information from him. But he was elderly, and Fez refused to shorten his life with impatience. Fez addressed an attendant instead. "Tell First Lieutenant Cadell to meet me in my stateroom."

The attendant bowed and ran off toward the barracks.

Introductions between the Lord Chancellor and Rhonda were warm but brief. Fez openly called Rhonda his beloved, and the Lord Chancellor seemed to understand all that entailed. The three of them approached the castle afterward, and the guards at the castle's inner gates saluted Fez. They weren't supposed to smile when they were on duty, but their corners of their lips twitched up. They were clearly happy to have their king back, and Fez was happy to _be_ back, but it wouldn't be for long.

The Lord Chancellor gave him a proper update on their way through the castle. Thankfully, all was well in Fez's kingdom. Wolf activity had been minimal, but that could change at any moment. Fez held off on his own update until they were in the stateroom with Cadell.

"Your Highness." Cadell lowered to one knee and bowed. His broad shoulders almost rivaled a Troll's, and he had dark skin like Fez himself, having come from the same land as Fez's father.

Fez gestured for Cadell to stand. "Meet Rhonda," Fez said. "She is—"

"I know who she is." Cadell's face lit up, and he shook Rhonda's hand. "You're the Troll Nation Wrestling Champ! The first non-Troll to earn that title. I read all about it in _The_ _Fourth Kingdom Times._ An impressive task for anyone, but especially a woman of your beauty—"

Rhonda snorted and laughed as if she were flattered.

"Yes, yes," Fez eyed the over-long handshake between her and Cadell, "and she is _my_ woman. My beloved."

"Oh." Cadell's fingers sprang off Rhonda's palm. "I didn't mean to suggest—" He cleared his throat. "I don't fancy her, Your Highness, but I wouldn't mind having a strong warrior like her in the guard. Neither would Sir Kelso, I'm sure."

Fez avoided Cadell's gaze and glanced at the paintings of American candy on his stateroom walls. Kelso's current feelings about Rhonda were less than kind, but the neither Cadell nor the guard needed to know that. "He understands what she can do," Fez said.

Then he told Cadell and the Lord Chancellor about all that had transpired since he left the Fourth Kingdom. He told them about Grayhead uniting the wolf packs against Penny. That the wolves wanted Jackie's cursed ring—which used to be Snow White's—to use whatever power it supposedly had. How a Red Cap had tried to poison Fez at the Candy and Pie Expo. That last one made the Lord Chancellor clutch his heart. He'd already been through the murder of Fez's parents.

"We don't yet understand why," Fez said, "if she went rogue or if she were under orders from Queen Riding Hood the Third, but Eric Forman is gathering information for us."

"Ah, yes," the Lord Chancellor said. "The one who helped save the Nine Kingdoms from the Evil Queen."

Fez nodded. "He is full of compassion, just as my grandmother was." Then he turned to Cadell. "You have something to tell me connected to Aubrey's absence?"

Cadell swallowed and rocked on his heels. "We are unsure if the two have anything to do with each other, but... perhaps the officers who were on duty at the time should—"

"No, _you_ will tell me, Cadell, and you will tell me _now._ "

"Yes, Your Highness." Cadell straightened up and stood like a man befitting of his rank. "The Traveling mirror has been stolen."

"What?" Panic rose in Fez's chest. That mirror was his friends' only way of getting home, but he was King. He couldn't afford to let his emotions take over. "When did it get stolen?" he said and swept his panic aside. "Do you have any leads on who might have done it?"

"We believe it was an inside job. We have one of the culprits in custody."

Fez liked only half of that information. _An inside job?_ How could a traitor have slithered into his castle? "Take me to him."

Cadell brought Fez and Rhonda down to the dank, gray dungeons. One of Kelso's apprentices was sitting behind thick metal bars—Bucardo, a young guard who'd shown great promise. He was the last person Fez had expected to be part of a conspiracy against him. Bucardo always followed orders rigidly and showed great reverence to his superiors. But now, as Fez approached his cell, he remained seated on a stone block with his head down.

"He won't say who he was working with," Cadell said.

"Bucardo," Fez said, "this is your king. Divulge the name—or names—of who stole the Traveling mirror, and your punishment will be far less severe."

Bucardo didn't react. Not one blond hair on his head moved, and Rhonda pulled her axe from its leather sling. "I can make him talk," she said, but Fez held her back. Even if Bucardo felt no loyalty to Fez, Kelso might have a chance to open him up. Bucardo genuinely seemed to like him, but perhaps someone else would have influence...

Fez sent a guard accompanying them to fetch Weylin, Kelso's other apprentice. He and Bucardo often served on duty together, and they seemed to be total opposites—superficially and deeper. Bucardo had blond hair, and Weylin had black. Bucardo was a strict ruler-follower until recently, and Weylin had a rebellious streak.

"Bucardo, Bucardo, Bucardo," Weylin said when he arrived, "you've really done it, huh?"

"Shut up, Weylin," Bucardo said but kept his head down.

"I don't think so." Weylin wrapped his fingers around the cell's bars. "I can't believe someone asked _you_ to help them steal the mirror. You're so... _fluffy._ Just like a for some shepherdess to herd with her bo."

"I'm not a sheep!"

Weylin laughed. "Of course you are. You know how the song goes. 'Shepherdess makes quite a mess, but—'"

Bucardo jumped off the stone block and ran at him. "I told you to shut up!"

"'—little lambs are lovely.'" Weylin grabbed Bucardo's fingers through the bars. His reflexes were remarkable, as was his strength. Bucardo couldn't wriggle free, even with what little grip Weylin had on his hands. "Who stole the mirror?" Weylin growled, and his eyes flared orange—

_He was a wolf._

But Fez didn't mind at all because thanks to Weylin's hypnosis trick, Bucardo began to reveal what he knew. "Aubrey," he said as if he were in a daze. "I helped her sneak it from the mirror chamber to the stables. We loaded it onto a wagon, and she rode away."

" _Why_ did you help her?" Weylin said, and Bucardo broke into a dreamy grin. "Oh, no..." Weylin groaned. "You did it because you wanted to _mate_ with her?"

Bucardo shrugged. "I'm a sucker for red hair."

Weylin half-groaned again and half-growled, and he moved away from the bars. "You're a sorry excuse for a wolf," he muttered and swiped two fingers against his temple. Then his mouth dropped open, as if he realized he'd revealed his own identity, too. "Cripes!" He fell on his knees before Fez. "Please don't arrest me, Your Majesty. Yeah, I threw rocks through the mirror, but—"

"Some of them hit me," Rhonda said.

"—I'm no traitor. Wolf's honor!"

"Wolves have no honor," Cadell said and moved to lift Weylin off the floor.

Fez put up his hand. " _This_ one does... as do many others. Weylin has done nothing wrong. Being born a wolf is not a crime."

Cadell relented. "Yes, Your Highness."

"Weylin, rise," Fez said. Weylin did, and Fez clapped his shoulder. "I lived in a place for several years that judged me on the color of my skin. My kingdom will be welcome to wolves—to _anyone—_ who abides its laws and respects his or her fellow man, woman, Troll, Elf, Dwarf, wolf..."

Weylin bowed his head. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Pixie, Nixie, Mermaid," Fez continued, "Fairy, Giant, Ogre, Goblin, magic bird..." He took a breath. "My God, how many different kinds of beings do we _have_ in the Nine Kingdoms?"

Rhonda nudged him. "I told you Aubrey was a woman."

"That's right. You did." Fez gazed at her affectionately. "You are so observant."

Weylin's eyes flashed orange. "Huff-puff, and Bucardo's a sheep! Can't believe we come from the same village. He's barely a wolf."

"Because he's got blond hair and no tail?" Rhonda said.

"No," Weylin said. "Because he has no loyalty."

* * *

Fez observed as his guards conducted a thorough search of Aubrey's quarters. Nothing they found indicated any motive until Cadell went through her books. Stuck between the pages of a heavy tome was a scrap of scarlet cloth.

Fez's whole body started to shake. He raised a trembling fist in the air, and the chords in his neck strained as he shouted, "PENNNNNNYYYYYYYYY"


	56. When the Heart Is a Diamond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 56  
 **WHEN THE HEART IS A DIAMOND**  


Fez and Rhonda had tried to follow Aubrey's trail, but she'd left no trail to follow. He knew very well where the mirror was headed, though: Penny's castle.

On their horses, he and Rhonda traversed dale after dale in good time. The Welkin Mountains stretched from the Naked Emperor's kingdom in the east, cut across Fez's kingdom, and ended in the Second Kingdom. The range wasn't easy to travel—for those who didn't know where the passes lay. But in his youth, Fez and his parents had often made the the trip. They used to visit Gretel's family, and the terrain was mapped on his brain.

During a rest break, while the horses grazed in the countryside, Fez took out the needle and scarlet cloth the Red Caps gave him. Rhonda leaned against an oak tree as he sewed a pattern. The thread glowed orange as he stitched, leaving an equally fiery design in its wake.

"What are you doing, Coco Puff?" she said.

"Sending the Red Caps a message for Miss Muffet. Penny's people may have stolen the Traveling mirror, but neither they—nor she—know _I_ know." He finished the pattern, and it faded to nothing.

"How does it work?" She gestured to see the cloth. He gave it to her, and she scrutinized the cloth closely. She seemed fascinated it could relay anything to anywhere.

"Like a telegram," he said. "The Red Caps are the Second Kingdom's elite messenger service. They serve the southern half, too, but they cannot patrol it. I need to be updated as swiftly as possible about the wolf situation." Rhonda was tracing patterns onto the cloth with her fingertip, and he waggled his eyebrows. "Magic's pretty impressive, eh?"

She handed the cloth back to him. "Eh, it's just like science, and I don't understand that, either." Then she enveloped him in her strong arms and pressed an equally strong kiss to his lips. "But you, I understand."

"You understand me very well," he said, and he allowed them a royal makeout session before they resumed their journey.

* * *

Kelso wasn't in his suite when Donna stormed inside. She dumped her knapsack on his floor, found extra pillows, sheets, and a quilt in his closet, and set to making a bed of his divan. Not even two full days spent in this damn castle, and Eric was shutting her out worse than ever. Granted, she hadn't let him tell her everything he'd wanted to, but what she'd already heard was bad enough.

Her feelings begged to be expressed as tears, but she forced them into her clenched fists. She sat on the bedded-up divan, and the afternoon turned into evening as she stared out the window. Kelso claimed he was lonely, but she hadn't felt this alone since Eric went to Africa. She used to count on him as her stability. But because of all he was learning about his family, he needed her to be _his_ stability. She couldn't do it, though, not with Penny slithering into his heart.

"Damn it!"Donna shouted, and her fist slammed the window sill. The time she'd spent sitting and thinking had done her no good. She stormed back out of Kelso's suite and stood in front of Jackie and Hyde's door. Laughter was pouring through it, warming up the gray-bricked hallway. The sound made her hesitant to intrude, but she knocked on the door anyway.

Hyde flung the door open with a giggling Jackie at his side. His curly hair was a mess over his forehead. He looked like a shaggy sheepdog, but Jackie's hair wasn't any better. It was clipped up at odd angles with scarlet barrettes. Donna didn't know what to make of the sight. Had the curse driven them insane?

"Hi, Donna," Jackie said and barely contained her laughter. "I did his hair."

"So I see," Donna said.

Hyde pushed the curls from his eyes. "She thinks I'm goin' on tour like this."

"On tour?" Donna had no idea what he was talking about.

"Yeah, so I said fine, but on the condition I get to fuck up _her_ hair." He flicked a clipped lock by Jackie's temple. "Like it?"

Donna shrugged. "Sure."

Jackie grabbed Donna's wrist and pulled her inside the suite. "We're going to be a world-famous singing duo, like The Captain and Tennille." Jackie closed the door behind her and leaned against it. Her smile seemed so blissfully happy, as if she and Hyde weren't under a horrible curse. "But our names are better: Sunlight and The Blue Sky." She glided her hand across the air, like she could the names in lights. "Oh!" Then she pushed herself from the door and cupped Donna's elbow. "You can be our roadie!"

"Hyde, you actually agreed to this?" Donna said and peered over at him. He was combing his fingers through his hair, putting it back in order.

"We're just playin' around," he said. "If we're goin' on tour, it's hard rock or nothing. Sunlight's gotta learn how to play a double-necked Gibson."

Jackie went up to him and hugged his waist. "We are _so_ singing love ballads together. Don't think you're weaseling out of them."

"Whatever," a grin spread across his face, and his arms closed around her, "but I get backstage sex for each one."

Donna sighed, but she wanted to scream. How could they be having fun at a time like this? The last two weeks had been hell, and the rest of their lives—what was left of them—wasn't going to get any better.

"Kelso told Penny you two are cursed," she said, and the joy dissolved from both Jackie and Hyde's faces. "He was looking at a heartstone, and she must have taken advantage of his magic-addled brain because he just blurted it out."

Hyde's arms fell from Jackie's back, and he scowled. "First he spies on me and Jackie screwing—"

"He did what?" Jackie gripped the material of Hyde's shirt, but then she swatted his chest. "Don't call it 'screwing'. It's so uncouth."

"In the Elf meadow," he continued. "Heard Kelso shout something and caught him crawling back through the trees."

"He watched us make beautiful love?" She pushed herself from Hyde and marched to the suite door. "That idiot! My talk with him about what you and I do was _not_ an invitation to watch. I'm going to have another 'talk' with him, one that includes my foot smashing into his 'nads."

"Jackie, I kind of need to talk to you myself," Donna said. "That's why I'm here."

"I'll take care of Kelso," Hyde said and replaced Jackie by the door.

Donna stopped him from leaving. "Kelso's not in his room, and I need you to talk to Eric. He doesn't think Penny killed Gretel."

"Huh. Yeah, okay. I'll knock some sense into him."

"You have my permission not to be gentle," Donna said.

"Got it."

Hyde left, and when the door clicked shut, Donna's defenses burst wide open. All her disparate feelings escaped through her eyes, and Jackie rushed to her side.

"Donna?" She rubbed her Donna's back. "Are you sick or something?"

"No, I'm freakin' crying."

"But you never cry. That's why I asked."

"I don't know what else to do, Jackie!" Donna's legs were shaking. Fortunately, Jackie guided her to the divan before she crumpled into a heap. "Eric's so tangled up with guilt over Laurie and doubts over his Goddamn 'worthiness' as a man that he's letting it cloud his judgment. He's desperate for Penny's approval, like she's a stand-in for Red."

"Is that really fair?" Jackie said. "I mean, that's like me saying Steven's a lost cause because he's having weirdo flashbacks." She was still rubbing Donna's back, and Donna's breath grew more even. "So Eric's giving his skanky cousin the benefit of the doubt," Jackie continued, "it doesn't mean you've lost him. Steven told me Eric pretty much hated her, so maybe what you think is subjectivity is really objectivity."

Donna glared at Jackie through her tears. "Come again?"

"Look, you know who Eric is, right? Who he really is, without the wolfy stuff and the creepy relatives."

"I thought I did."

"When the curse first started to affect me," Jackie said, "I acted all crazy, but Steven trusted my love for him anyways. And just like he and I trusted Eric with our ring, you have to trust the love Eric has for you."

Donna wiped her wet cheeks. Her tears were losing strength. "Yeah, but you and Hyde tried to take the ring back from him, remember?"

"But we _couldn't,_ remember? If we both didn't trust Eric deep down, Steven would have that ring dangling around his neck right now. But we do trust him, and so should you."

"But I don't trust him. I haven't for a while, not since he bailed on our first wedding." Donna winced at her own words. They were unexpected, but they weren't false. She bit the tip of her thumb and tried to sort things through. Those few years ago when he ran off, he hadn't trusted her enough to talk things out—that she'd still love him if they postponed their wedding. "Love isn't enough, though," she said. "Clearly, it isn't enough."

Jackie slipped a sheet of paper into Donna's hand. Part of the poem from the Duergar's old, dusty mirror was written on it. "I keep going over what Hubrecht said about me and Steven," Jackie said, "but I'm terrible at analyzing poetry. It takes the beauty out of it."

"I wish I'd memorized what Hubrecht said about Eric and me," Donna said, and Jackie snatched the poem back from her.

"He called Eric a loser and you a diamond... or something. Steven called me a cunt this morning."

"He what?"

"During one of those flashbacks. He was so rough with me, pulling me off him, and at the glade he shoved me! I've never seen him that angry, and now I can't even say his name. It makes him physically ill." Jackie traced the edge of the poem with her finger, but her gaze seemed far away. "It's not him, though. It's the curse. I'm not really sure what it's doing to him, what he's remembering, _why_ he's remembering. But it's taking things from him, just like it did to me." She put the poem aside and planted her hand on Donna's knee. "I need you to do me a favor, okay? Say Steven's name to him, not 'Hyde'. _'Steven'._ I have to know if it's just me who can't say it around him or everyone."

"Okay, but how can you trust him after all that?" Donna said. "Aren't you afraid it's gonna get worse?"

"I don't know what or _who_ he saw inside his head, but it wasn't me he shoved. He might scare me, and he'll protect himself fiercely, but it's not in him anymore to truly hurt me."

Donna shook her head. "How can you possibly know that?"

Jackie said nothing, as if the question insulted her. She began to take the barrettes out of her hair, but her easy laughter with Hyde shot through Donna's memory. Amid all the danger they faced, Jackie and Hyde were still utterly themselves with each other...

"Because you trust each other implicitly," Donna said.

"His heart, Donna," Jackie said and rubbed the center of her chest. "I trust his heart. And he trusts mine."

Donna nodded. Finally, she knew what she had to do.

* * *

Eric had only one of Laurie's seeds left. It lay in his palm, like a lone rock in the middle of a vast lake. He should've had four. When did he lose three of them? He'd scoured the suite, searching. If they'd fallen out of his pants pocket when he changed clothes, he would've found them.

"Forman," Hyde said from the door, and Eric stuffed the seed back into his pocket. Hyde stepped inside the suite, having to edge past an askew dresser. He seemed impressed by the bedroom's current state of disarray. "That pissed off, huh?"

"No, I lost something."

"Your mind? 'Cause Donna's really upset, man."

"Oh, yeah? Well, I'm upset, too," Eric said, but he'd expend his pent-up energy by cleaning up the suite. He started with pushing the bed back against the wall. "Of all people I need to talk to about Penny's offer, it's Donna."

"Offer? What offer?"

Eric's grip froze on the bed. "Um... to help me become a better man." A blatant lie, but he couldn't tell Hyde the truth, not without Donna being present. Earlier, Eric had asked Penny why she didn't make the offer to Wolf. Wolf was her half-brother, after all, and a native of the Second Kingdom. Wouldn't he make a better choice for King?

" _There are certain... complications that make Wolf ineligible,_ " she'd said. He asked what they were, but she supposedly respected Wolf's privacy too much to reveal them.

Hyde quirked up an eyebrow. "'A better man'?"

"I have to stand on my own two feet, all right?" Eric shoved the divan to its original spot. "You know, make strong choices, take risks. I've always been afraid of doing that. If I hadn't been such a coward, things would've been different."

"You're a moron."

"That's encouraging."

"Man, you've been strong since the day I met you," Hyde said, and he put the dresser back where it belonged. "Not strong enough to keep Donna from sitting on your head, but strong enough to withstand it." He draped his arm over the dresser, usually a relaxed gesture from him—but he seemed anything but relaxed. "Remember your vows, Forman. Remember who helped you start taking risks in the first place. It's Donna."

"Of course it's Donna," Eric said. "I would've given up a long time ago if not for her..." He slumped onto the divan. A pair of flannel pajamas lay by his feet, and his foot burrowed beneath the plaid fabric. "But, Hyde, the best way I can honor what she's given me is to trust my own choices."

"Long as they're the right ones." Hyde picked his way across the clothing-strew floor to him. "I may not get another chance to tell you this, Forman, 'cause of the curse," he clapped Eric's shoulder, "but you were the first guy I trusted after my uncle Chet."

Eric's cheeks grew hot. He still wasn't used to Hyde's magic-fueled sincerity. "Oh. Well... thanks."

"I'm not finished. Trusting you eventually let me trust Jackie, and it wasn't because of your stones." He jabbed Eric's chest near where the ring rested, over his heart. "It's because of this."

* * *

Dinner was a strange and tense affair, and Jackie didn't like it at all. The spiced rack of wild boar was earthy and delectable, especially in its red wine marinade, but the gloom hovering over the dining room diminished her appetite. Donna and Eric sat on opposite ends of the table and didn't talk to each other. Michael powered through his food and tried to leave, but Steven forced him to stay.

"You're sticking around and guarding us," Steven said.

Michael gave in easily, but he seemed depressed. He fiddled with his napkin and sighed repeatedly. Whatever he'd seen in the heartstone couldn't have been good, or maybe he missed Fez. Thanks to the Elf-protected glade, only two days had passed for them—but over a week had passed for Fez. He must have reached his kingdom by now, done his business, and started on the journey to Penny's castle.

Attendants soon served dessert, some kind of custard, but even sweets didn't lift the gloom or break the silence.

"Where's your cousin?" Jackie said to Eric. Someone had to do _something_ to improve this meal, though talking about Penny probably wouldn't do it.

"She won't always eat with us," Eric said. "Considering the state her kingdom is in, she has to keep working."

"I'm sure she does," Donna muttered, "on _you,_ " but Jackie hadn't made a final decision yet on Penny's guilt. Why hadn't Penny said anything about the curse to them? A troublemaker like her would've found some way of taunting them with it...

Unless Eric was right, and she was on the side of good. Maybe she'd sent out her own resources to help them. Maybe she didn't want to say anything about the curse until she had something worthy of sharing.

Jackie chuckled at her own theory. It was as unlikely as Donna entering the _Miss America_ pageant. Regardless, Jackie was more than ready to leap through the Traveling mirror and go home. She couldn't take much more of being stuck in this dismal castle or the Nine Kingdoms. The only consolation she had was that Steven was with her.

Attendants cleared the table after dessert, and one who looked to be about Jackie's age picked up Michael's custard cup. She must have brushed her red hair thoroughly before dinner because it sparkled in the torchiere light.

"Would any of you like to accompany me in the game room?" she said. "A bunch of us girls are having a little doubles squash tournament, but my partner isn't feeling well."

"I'll do it," Michael said. "I don't have a partner either... Oh, wait. Hyde, can I?"

"Not all night," Steven said. "If you're doing too well, you gotta throw the match."

"Deal."

The attendant tossed her sparkling hair over her shoulders, revealing a pendant of amber around her neck. "Wonderful. I'll meet you in the game room in fifteen minutes."

"That's pretty," Jackie said and gestured to the pendant. She stood up to get a closer look and immediately regretted her statement. Inside the amber was a lock of coarse hair.

Wordlessly, the attendant tucked the pendant inside the collar of her blouse. Then she darted from the dining room.

Something was odd about that attendant's necklace. Jackie glanced at Donna, and Donna nodded slightly, as if she agreed. Jackie intended to share this information with the rest of the table, but Steven had other plans. His arm glided around hers shoulders, and he whispered, "Wanna try the bath-thing again?"

She grasped his hand, and they dashed upstairs to their suite.

Bathing with him here turned out to be a much better experience than in Bean Town. They had fun in the tub this time, soaping each other up, splashing each other... and going down on each other. It was the third time that day they'd engaged in some kind of sexual activity, but she needed to stay as connected to him as possible.

He must have felt the same way, too. The curse was slowly clogging up the speech it so recently forced out of him. Worse, the emotions it had unearthed were pooling in his body. Soft grunts had replaced a good portion of his speech. They denied him a verbal release of his feelings—something he'd rarely ever needed before—but sex seemed to discharge the excess.

Dry and dressed, they returned to their bedroom. Steven sat at the desk and tried either to write or to draw something, but he stopped after a few minutes. He crushed the paper between his hands and tore it to shreds.

"If you can't do it, you can't do it," Jackie said. She pulled him away from the desk to the bed, and they sat down together. "I know how frustrating it is. When I was mute, I wanted my neck to split open and let out my voice, but at least I could write."

He grunted and grunted again. She leaned her head on his shoulder, hoping he'd stop trying, but the grunts became pained. "Fuck," he said hoarsely. "Forget it."

She frowned. She had to distract him. He'd go insane by concentrating on what he couldn't say. "Baby, do you ever miss her?"

"Who?"

"Your mom."

"The only thing I miss is her sense of humor. It was sarcastic and nasty."

Jackie sat up straight. "Like yours."

"Guess so. Do you miss your dad?"

"Yes. That's why I..." She sucked in a shaky breath. Amazingly, the hurt of her father's absence cut through her terror about the curse. "That's why I didn't push a wedding date, Puddin'. I wanted to wait until my dad got out of prison... so he could walk me down the aisle."

"Crap. Why didn't you tell me that?"

"I... You know what?" She laughed at the ridiculousness of it. "I don't know."

"You don't have to keep that shit from me, J—Sunlight. I'm not always gonna know what to say about it... not on the damn spot, but if you need something—whatever the hell it is—" his hand slid over her thigh tenderly, "I'm gonna do everything I can to give it to you."

She covered her heart, touched almost into speechlessness. "That sounds like a vow."

"Maybe it is."

She leaned her head on his shoulder again. His hand remained on her leg, and they sat like that in silence for a while. Then, very quietly, she said, "Are you afraid?"

He grunted.

"Yeah," she wove her fingers with his on her thigh, "me, too."

* * *

Donna tore Eric's shirt off him as soon as they entered their suite. The way she'd acted at dinner, he thought she'd never touch him again, but her lips and hands alleviated his fears. He returned her passion kiss for kiss, and soon they were naked, and she was on top of him, and the motion of her hips made him forget—if only for a little while—the discord between them.

Afterward, she settled into the crook of his arm. He couldn't stop smiling, but he had to risk ruining the moment. "You're not mad at me anymore?" he said.

"I got it out at dinner," she said. "Whatever it is Penny told you to make you believe she's innocent, I trust you."

His breath caught in his chest. She'd stunned him into silence.

"It doesn't mean I'm not afraid," she continued, "because—believe me, Eric—I am more frightened than I've ever been."

He still couldn't speak, so he stroked her hair until his voice crept out of his throat. "I'm scared, too... Of course, that's not surprising."

"You've been courageous this entire time. You shouldn't discount that." She moved back over his body. She was supporting herself on her arms and looking at him face-to-face. "Our first wedding aside, you've never done wrong by me—not more than in an annoying, harmless way. And I don't believe you'll do it now."

He breathed in a few astounded breaths; then a happy, "All right!" burst from is mouth. Her faith in him meant everything. It also meant his news about Penny's offer could wait until morning. He cupped the back of Donna's head and, with his fear retreating to a far-off cave, drew her in for a fresh round of kissing.


	57. Standing In for Millions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 57  
 **STANDING IN FOR MILLIONS**  


An attendant called Kelso into Penny's war room before breakfast. A huge map of the Second Kingdom covered the back wall. The side walls were draped in scarlet cloth, and on it patterns blazed to fiery life before fading into nothing. Kelso didn't know the meaning of the symbols, but Penny's eyes kept flicking to them. She was standing amid a circle of Red Caps who were stitching feverishly into squares of scarlet cloth. Similar patterns glowed on their swatches. They must have been communicating with Red Caps stationed throughout the kingdom.

"Kelso, thank you for your prompt appearance," Penny said. She was outfitted in a scarlet military-style uniform, including a cloak, and her manner bore none of the casual attitude from the last two days. This morning she wasn't Eric's cousin. She was Queen Riding Hood the Third.

She strode to the map against the back wall, and he followed her. Amber-topped pushpins had been stuck into the map all over the southern Second Kingdom, Gretel's half. Garnet-topped pushpins numbered significantly in the north, Penny's half. And onyx-topped pushpins filled Bread Crumb Village in the south. He pointed to those. "Wolves?"

"The amber ones," she said then indicated the garnet-topped pushpins. "These are my Red Caps... and _these,_ " she gestured to the onyx-topped pushpins, "these represent lives lost. Grayhead has made his first true strike. Wolf packs under his command swept into Bread Crumb Village last night and decimated it."

Kelso stared at the cluster of onyx pushpins. Each one must have represented hundreds of people. "What about Gretel's guard? What about yours?"

"They're all young girls, Kelso. Very smart, well-trained, but inexperienced. The civil war between the north and south kingdoms left both sides without any seasoned soldiers—without _men._ That's why I need your help." She squeezed his hand, but unlike yesterday, her touch didn't freeze him. "Tales of your strategic brilliance have reached all corners of the Nine Kingdoms. You're an invaluable asset."

Kelso smiled. Finally, _someone_ understood his value. "What do you need me to do? I mean, I can't go out in the field unless Fez gives me that order. I'm still his Captain of the Guard, even if I'm not here on his command."

Penny didn't question him, and Kelso was relieved. His story about being on temporary leave hadn't been seen through yet.

"I'd like you to be my strategic adviser as long as you're here," she said. "I understand that Fez and the Fourth Kingdom will always have your loyalty, but there won't be any conflicts of interest. Helping me defend my kingdom from Grayhead can only help the Fourth Kingdom... and your friends."

He nodded. She'd made a good point. Helping protect Second Kingdom citizens was the right thing to do, something Betsy would be proud of—and maybe even Brooke. "Okay," he said. "I'll do it."

* * *

At breakfast, Forman and Donna seemed to be doing a lot better than the day before. They came into the rustic dining room laughing, and they teased each other about their appetites. Hyde had no interest in the subtext of the joke, but he was glad to see them happy. The good vibes he got from them, though, were squashed when Kelso straggled in late.

"Hey," Kelso said, as if he'd done nothing wrong.

"'Hey'?" Hyde could've smashed Kelso's face into the wall. "What the hell is your problem, man?" He gestured to himself and Jackie. "Didn't you take a freakin' oath to protect us?"

Kelso pulled a plate of bacon to himself. "The castle's crawling with Red Caps. No way a wolf'll get to you... Plus, I'm protecting you in other ways."

"Protecting us?" Hyde said. No attendants were in the dining room, but had they been, their presence wouldn't have mattered. Penny already knew enough. "How? By blurting that Jackie and me are cursed?"

"There are things about living in the Nine Kingdoms you guys don't understand," Kelso said. "I've been Fez's Captain of the Guard for eight months. You have to trust me."

"Asking for trust, huh?" Forman said. "Seems to be a lot of that going around lately."

Hyde scowled and ate the rest of his meal angrily. Forman, meanwhile, scarfed down three servings of bacon along with his plate of eggs. Everyone but Kelso finished eating around the same time, and Jackie made a declaration: "Michael and I are going to talk."

That meant people had to clear out of the dining room. Hyde didn't like it, but Kelso was no longer the coward who used others as a human shield. If any wolves did manage to sneak into the castle, Hyde trusted him to protect her with his life.

Forman led the charge from the dining room and down the hall. He bounded up the stairs to the royal wing with Hyde and Donna behind him. Then the three of them entered Forman and Donna's suite. The quilt was hanging halfway off their bed, and Hyde guessed the cause behind his friends' good mood this morning. They'd probably had some fun last night.

"The first part's kind of obvious," she said. " _'Look at what you fear to see, and the curse will cease to be. Listen to what you refuse to hear, and the curse will disappear.'_ You and Jackie are really stubborn... Your relationship does a lot better when you see and hear each other for who you actually are."

"Won't hear an argument from me," Hyde said, "but we're doin' a lot better on that score. What about the second half?"

She stuffed a hand into her pants pocket and produced a rumpled piece of paper, a copy of Hubrecht's poem. Jackie had given it to her yesterday, but Forman piped up first. " _'Push through the dirt you must not spurn.'_ You like dirt, so maybe you'll find some that you _don't_ like... and it's magic... and it'll help somehow."

Hyde smirked. "Yeah, you flunked poetry analysis in high school as bad as I did. Donna? "

" _'Climb to the sun that does not burn,'_ " she read from the poem. "The only thing I could come up with is that you keep calling Jackie 'Sunlight,' but she _does_ burn—even when she's giving a compliment." She put the poem back into Hyde's pocket and clasped his shoulder. "Hyde, forgive me for this—and brace yourself." He gave her a look, having no clue what she meant, but then she said, "Steven."

His stomach clenched, but he didn't toss up breakfast.

"Steven," she repeated, and his nausea strengthened. "Sorry. Jackie wanted me to do a test."

Hyde winced. "It's cool... Not as bad as when she says it."

"That makes sense, though," Forman said. "Jackie's always been the one who made you feel the sickest." He grinned but not for long. His thumbs jammed themselves into his pockets, as if he were trying to keep himself from gesticulating wildly. "Listen, I'm just gonna come out and say it: Penny asked me to talk to the wolf villages on her behalf."

"What?" Donna's eyes widened. "What for?"

"That's only part of it." Forman reached out to her, but she didn't welcome him. "She also wants me to become King of the southern Second Kingdom. Gretel had no heirs, and I'm a direct descendent of Queen Riding Hood the First."

"No—" Donna shook her head and backed off from him. "No way am I living here. Your cousin's crazy. Absolutely fucking bonkers."

"It wouldn't be permanent," he said. "It would just be to bring peace to the kingdom. The wolves won't trust a non-wolf. They need an alternative to what Grayhead's offering them."

Donna's face had flushed, and she crossed her arms. "And what, exactly, would this involve?"

Forman glanced at the stone-bricked ceiling and counted off on his fingers. "Well, first I'd have to gain the wolf packs' and villages' trust. Then Fez would have to recommend me to the Council of the Nine Kingdoms. I'd have to prove my heritage..."

"And when you're done 'bringing peace' to the masses," Hyde said, "who takes over as ruler of the southern half, huh?" Forman shrugged. "Thought so. It's Penny. She'll get your half, meaning once the wolves are nice and unsuspecting, she'll burn 'em all out of the Second Kingdom."

"She wouldn't do that," Forman said, but Hyde caught the doubt flickering in his eyes.

* * *

"Why are you so depressed, Michael?" Jackie said. She was sitting beside him, but he hadn't turned his chair toward her. He continued to eat breakfast as if she'd said nothing. "Michael, I asked you a question."

"I'm not depressed, Jackie." He stuffed three pieces of bacon into his mouth, and bacon crumbs flew from his lips as he spoke. "I'm awesome."

"Oh, don't even try lying to me. You've done so much of it in the past that I know all your tells."

"'Tells'? You and Hyde been playing a lot of poker lately?"

She stamped her foot on the stone floor. "Out with it, Michael! Or all the violence I no longer subject Steven to will find a new home."

He shoved his plate of bacon away, "Fine!" and finally turned toward her. "I don't want to be in the Nine Kingdoms anymore, okay? I want the life I saw in the heartstone, 'specially now that Fez has Rhonda."

"What did you see in the heartstone?" she said. He hadn't told her before, and she was curious—admittedly, for more than one reason.

"Me, and Betsy and Brooke, and the son we don't have," he said. "But there's no way I can go back home. Those seven wishes Wolf gave me last year screwed me. As long as Brooke lives in America, she'll never want me. And how would I support them? My career as a cop is finished. I just up and ran out on the Point Place P.D. without explaining things."

Jackie slid a hand over his knee. "Fez will give you all the gold you need. He's a king—and your best friend. He'd do that for you."

"It wouldn't be enough." He began to play with the white table cloth, an annoying habit, but she tolerated it. He seemed absolutely miserable. "What would I do with my life?" he continued. "How would I show my kid—or kids—a good example? I'm a cop. It's weird, since I also enjoy breaking the law sometimes—but a cop's really who I am. No police force'll ever hire me, and working private security just isn't the same."

He leaned back in his chair, looking defeated, and she couldn't help herself. She stood up and pushed her chair so it was flush beside his. Then she sat down again and combed her fingers through his hair. "You've been thinking seriously about all this," she said.

"I'm screwed, Jackie." He rested his head on her shoulder. "There's no way out. I'll just be omnipotent and lonely and in love with someone who doesn't love me." His voice cracked, and tears rimmed his eyes. "I won't be able to watch Betsy grow up... or go to her boring recitals—'cause you just know Brooke's gonna make her take piano lessons—but I wanna sit through 'em and clap for my kid."

"You'll figure out a way, Michael."

"Just like you and Hyde are gonna break the curse?"

Her body stiffened. "Yes."

He sniffled loudly. His tears were flowing freely now. "I'm as cursed as you two."

* * *

Hyde walked in on a familiar scene in the dining room: Kelso's head on Jackie's shoulder, her hand lazily brushing through his hair. Last time he spotted them like that, he'd thought they were sleeping together. No such thoughts occurred to him now. She was just offering comfort.

"Puddin'?" Jackie said before he could announce himself, like she'd sensed his presence.

Kelso sat up straight, "Oh, hey, Hyde," and jumped to his feet. He seemed to be in better spirits. "I better go."

"You have your assignment, Michael," she said.

Kelso saluted her, "Yes, ma'am!" before bolting from the dining room.

Hyde watched him disappear down the hallway then plunked down on the chair Kelso had vacated. "What was that was about?"

"I'm helping him be proactive about his situation."

"His moron-situation?"

"No," Jackie said and told him about Kelso wanting to go back through the mirror and why. "He feels so lost, like he doesn't belong here or there. At the very least, he should get to be with his daughter."

"Yeah, that's rough," Hyde said, and a realization burrowed into his skull. He stroked the side of Jackie's face and tried not to smile. "I hate bein' here, too, waiting for Fez to show up with some freakin' info that might—or might not—save our asses. But it could be worse."

"Worse?" She stared at him as if he were crazy. "How?"

"I could be here without you."

Her expression softened, and her palm slid over the top of his hand, the one cradling her cheek. "Why? Because you'd miss it when I do this?" She released his hand and dug her fingers into hair. She mussed it just like she had yesterday afternoon, frizzing-up his curls and matting them over his forehead.

"This ain't a fair fight. Your hair crap's back in the bathroom."

"Is it?" She moved from her chair to his lap. "Well, I'm not gonna let you go get it, and I'm gonna keep doing this..." she dragged her nails lightly over his scalp, "because you have to get used to your 'Blue Sky' look."

"Whatever," he said but didn't stop her 'fro interference. "I'm gonna go into town and get myself a haircut. Shoulda had it done before Forman and Donna's wedding."

She gripped a sizable clump of his curls. "Don't you dare! I like how scruffy you are."

"Then I'll cut it myself. There's gotta be scissors in a place with so much thread."

"Oh, no." She de-mussed his 'fro by raking her fingers through it. "No, no, no. I remember when you cut your own hair during that one year in high school. You looked like a clown, Steven—"

She gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth, but his name didn't cause revulsion. Maybe because he was enjoying himself when she said it. A similar thing happened when the curse's effects were on her. They were laughing together in Stagger's house, and her voice momentarily came back.

"I'm so, so sorry," she said behind her palm, and he pulled her hand from her mouth.

"I'm fine. I—" His words devolved into grunts. He was trying to tell her about the curse's weakness.

"Stop, baby. Stop. You'll grunt your throat raw."

He fell silent and pressed his forehead against hers, but his teeth ground together in frustration. He was gathering clues about the curse, man, but the one person he wanted to tell— _needed_ to tell—he couldn't. Not that he could tell anyone else about his ideas, either, but Jackie was in this mess with him. She deserved to know everything he did.

* * *

Kelso rushed down gray-bricked hallway after gray-bricked hallway in search of Sophie, the attendant he'd played squash with last night. She wasn't in the kitchens or the game room, but another attendant gave him a lead that she was dusting in the Visiting Dignitaries wing. He reached it after a hefty climb up three long flights of stairs. Then he passed by a group of elderly, granny attendants who were refreshing sheets in various bedrooms.

"Sophie?" he said to them.

"In the last suite down the hall," an attendant said, and Kelso hurried to the room.

Sophie was on her hands and knees and dusting under a bed. She had a nice round ass that wiggled in the air as she worked, but the sight didn't give Kelso his usual dirty thoughts. He entered the suite with his mind on his goal and closed the door loudly.

"Oh!" Sophie scooted away from the bed and angled her head toward him. "Sir Kelso! You gave me a fright."

"Sorry. My hot bod tends to do that to chicks."

She chuckled then coughed. Her feather duster had collected a massive amount of dust. She stood up and shook the duster, and white sparks made the dust vanish.

"That's handy," he said. "Can I see it?"

"Certainly." She gave the feather duster to him. Like last night, her red hair covered her shoulders and that suspicious pendant she wore around her neck.

"How does this thing work?" He fanned the feather duster in front of her. White sparks floated into the air, and her hair flew from her neck, but only the chain of her pendant was visible. "I think my daughter'll like this, but her mom? Not so much." He returned the feather duster to her.

"You have a daughter?"

"Yeah, she's three. I miss her—and her mom—but I almost never get to see 'em."

Sophie's fingers went to her neck and traced over the chain. "That's so sad. Do they live far from the Fourth Kingdom?"

"Super far. Farther than the deepest Dwarf mine. My duty keeps me from them, and it hurts," he jabbed the center of his chest, "right here, you know? Like the Duergar tunneled right through me. Oh, wait..." he stepped backward to the door, creating a purposeful distance between them, "you probably _don't_ know. You're lucky. All my friends, they've got their beloveds with them, and they're Frenching all the time. Me? I'm all alone."

"But I _do_ know, Sir Kelso." She strode toward him, closing the gap he'd made, and pulled the amber pendant free from her blouse. "See?" She held the pendant up to his face. "This amber contains the hair of my beloved. The laws of this kingdom have separated us..." She grew silent, as if she were wary of saying any more, but Kelso knew how to draw information from a witness.

"One of my best buddies is a wolf," he said, "and his dad totally didn't want him marrying a Red Cap. He kept my buddy from getting a job or an education, all to force him to break off the engagement."

She clutched the pendant to her breast. "What did they do?"

"Got married." He smiled warmly. "Yeah, his dad came around eventually."

"Happily ever after!" she said and clapped. "Oh, do you think it could be the same for me?"

"In Fez's kingdom, sure, but I don't know all the laws of this one—"

"It is illegal for women to marry wolves, but so many of us girls have found our beloveds in their villages. Some have even given birth to their children! But we must leave our daughters and sons with our beloveds because Queen Riding Hood would never allow us to raise them out in the open."

"That sucks," he said, but it was also a very interesting piece of information.

She clutched the pendant again and sighed. "Happily Ever After is a right for all citizens in the Nine Kingdoms. We just want the freedom to marry whom we love. Someday, my beloved and I will be allowed to live our lives together. I have to believe that."

Kelso had to believe it, too, at least for himself and Betsy. Jackie was right. If he kept moping around, he had no chance of getting what he wanted. He had to help solve Gretel's murder and help Jackie and Hyde break their curse—because he wouldn't leave without doing that—and then go home and try things out with Brooke.

"Thank you, Sophie," he said and gave her shoulder a friendly, non-suggestive pat. "Maybe we'll both get our Happily Ever Afters."

* * *

Fez and Rhonda had pushed their horses hard, and they arrived in the northern Second Kingdom hours ahead of schedule. The horses needed a rest, and though stopping in the Red Riding Hood Forest wasn't ideal, he felt safe enough. Penny's Red Caps constantly patrolled the land. He and Rhonda were armed with both Wolfsbane and weapons—and the skills to use them.

They made camp by a flowing brook so the horses could drink, but kings rarely got to rest. Penny's possible motives for stealing the Traveling mirror consumed his mind. His theories were too varied and all without proof. He needed to confront his wayward fellow-sovereign directly.

"Fezzy, sit." Rhonda patted the dirt beside her. "Your pacing's gonna dig a hole to the Dwarf Kingdom."

"Ai..." He glanced down. He'd worn a path between two birch trees. How could he have done that when Rhonda looked so enticing? She was stretched out on the patchy grass and popping his emergency chocolates into her mouth. They hadn't yet consummated their love. He was too wrapped up in duty.

"Fez," she said warningly. He recognized the tone. If he didn't join her and at least _try_ to relax, she'd shove chocolate down his throat.

He sat next to her, and she dangled a chocolate over his mouth seductively. "That's better, Coco Puff." She dropped the chocolate onto his tongue then grasped the sides of his face and kissed him. The chocolate melted under the onslaught of their tongues.

They both enjoyed a very fine make-out, and she even invited him to second base, but they were interrupted before she could get off her leather armor. A small group of Red Caps had surrounded them.

"Your Majesty," the Red Caps said and bowed.

One of them stepped forward. "We bring you a message from the Lord Chancellor Miss Muffet. Bread Crumb Village has been overrun by wolves. Grayhead made his first attack last night, and the packs under his command are moving north. Miss Muffet is massing troops and sent word to Queen Riding Hood."

Fez did not like this news at all. The Second Kingdom, even with the Red Caps, was ill-equipped to handle a full-scale war. If the wolf packs had truly united, both the south and north kingdoms were in grave danger. "I need you to relay two messages," he said, "one to Miss Muffet and one to my First Lieutenant, Cadell, in the Fourth Kingdom."

Fez's road was clear. He'd have to bring his own army into the Second Kingdom, and Kelso would have to lead it—but not all of his men. Less than half could be spared. The Fourth Kingdom was still recovering from the Trolls' invasion from the year before. Red Cap spies had infiltrated his castle, and wolves infiltrated the Naked Emperor's palace in the neighboring Fifth Kingdom. Fez could not leave his own people undefended, from either the wolves or Penny herself.

He told the Red Caps all of this information in code, one which they wouldn't understand but both Miss Muffet and Cadell would. Then he dismissed the Red Caps with a "Good day!" and once they disappeared into the woods, he buried his face into hands.

"It'll be okay, Coco Puff," Rhonda said, and she enclosed him in her muscular arms. "We'll beat back those wolves and send 'em running with their tails between their legs."

* * *

Eric hadn't seen Penny since yesterday. She must've had lots of queenly things to do, but by mid-afternoon, she invited him into her war room. A map of the Second Kingdom was littered with red, orange, and black pushpins on the back wall. Scarlet cloth fell in sheets from the high-vaulted ceiling. The cloth swathed the side walls completely and flared with strange patterns every second.

"Eric, the time has come for you to understand what we're really up against," Penny said. They were alone, and she beckoned him to the map. She told him about the destruction of Bread Crumb Village and pointed out Grayhead's assumed location, along with the centers of different wolf factions. "Wolf has learned which villages are amenable to talks. Once the more reasonable wolf packs listen, the others will listen and so on until only the most stubborn pack remains— _Grayhead's_ pack."

"But how do you _know_ they'll listen?" Eric said.

"Reason spreads through wolf communities just like irrationality. What they need is a sane voice to counter Grayhead's. Someone to allay their suspicions and fears."

"I still don't get..." Intricate, glowing designs flowed over the scarlet cloth and drew Eric's gaze. "I still don't get why Wolf can't do it."

Penny sighed. "Come with me."

From the war room, she brought him down to the bowels of the castle—deeper than the recreational basement—into a dark chamber rotten with the stench of death. It reminded him of the tomb where Snow White's stepmother lay, and he covered his nose and mouth with his sleeve. Another flight of stairs led even deeper down, but an iron gate barred passage.

Sigils cut into the brick walls cast an eerie red light over everything, and he resisted the urge to grab Penny's hand. Her boots clacked on the flagstones as she led him into the heart of the chamber. The red light from the sigils seemed to coalesce onto one spot: a coffin.

The ring dangling over Eric's heart started to burn, not with heat but with hatred. It kindled in his blood and pumped through him, making his muscles tense and his breath grow short. It wasn't his hatred, though. Not his, and he focused on another ring he wore, the one Donna had given him on their wedding day. He conjured her loving voice in his mind as she said her vows, and he clung to it like he would a log in a raging river.

"This, Eric," Penny said and ran her fingers over the edge of the coffin, "is where my mother's remains would have been interred. Very little of her body, however, was left to inter. Just what's inside."

He braced himself for a gruesome sight and peeked into the glass-covered coffin. A shriveled ear lay on top of a velvet pillow. The rest of the coffin was empty space.

"Grayhead killed her," she said, but he'd already guessed. Grayhead's scent cut through the chamber's rot. "That ear was the only thing of her slaughtered body that was recoverable. You can see now why wolves—as a whole—make me uncomfortable. They're vicious... _can_ be vicious."

He was still looking at the ear. Something about it, beyond Grayhead's scent, seemed familiar, but withstanding the influence burning at his chest depleted his mental reserves. "What does any of this have to do with Wolf?" he said.

"Bernice had chosen a wolf over her own daughter!" she said, and her expression grew more than dark. Maybe the chamber's eerie red light was the cause, but her face reflected the hatred blazing in the ring. "And the sad thing is, my mother could understand why. Wolves are incredibly alluring. When my mother was barely a woman, a wolf seduced her into falling in love with him. He promised her everything if she'd release the restrictions on his kind..."

Her brow furrowed, and her lips curled with contempt. "She became pregnant with his child, and he abandoned her. She sent spies into the wolf villages to seek him out, and they learned he was already mated and had children. The monster had stolen her love and used it against her."

"Grayhead," Eric whispered. "Wolf is Grayhead's son." No wonder he couldn't get a read on Wolf's individual scent. Wolf had to be disguising it.

"Yes. Wolf's birth took a terrible tole on my mother. She didn't want to hear his first cry, to be reminded of all she'd lost. As she pushed Wolf from her body, she ordered that Grayhead's mate and children be burned, including her own son."

"That's... that's awful." Eric's fingers twitched, and he clenched them into a fist. They begged to rip the ring from his chest, but he couldn't let them. The hatred surging through his veins had begun to make him physically ill.

"The Red Caps followed my mother's orders to the letter," Penny continued, "except for one. A rogue Red Cap burned a hare instead of the infant-Wolf. He'd been born as a fur-covered cub, and my mother never knew she'd been tricked."

Penny left the coffin and was swallowed by near-darkness, but Eric could see well enough that she'd returned to the stairs. He followed, and her tone lightened considerably. "A kind wolf family adopted him, raised him, but wolves know things about themselves humans couldn't possibly know. Wolf realized his true heritage and sought me out. We both want peace for the Second Kingdom."

They climbed the stairs and out of the darkness, and finally the pain over Eric's heart relented. The ring cooled, but as his body recovered from the trauma, tears burst from his eyes. He failed to stop them, not until their power weakened.

Penny, meanwhile, periodically glanced behind her, as if she were afraid he'd disappear. In the tomb, she'd seemed only half like herself, as if foreign emotions had invaded her own blood.

"So you see, Eric," she said, "why Wolf cannot speak to the packs? Those who trust Grayhead won't trust him. Those who _don't_ fully trust Grayhead won't trust him. But you, my dear cousin, are a wolf among men, quite literally. You're a close friend of Snow White's grandson, who is loyal to Gretel the Third—who was strikingly loyal to the wolves." She laughed a lilting laugh, one from their childhood. "They won't know what to make of you. You're effectively neutral."

They emerged back into the war room and pushed aside the scarlet cloth. The stairwell was hidden behind it. Red Caps filled the room now, sewing patterns into their own scarlet swatches. Eric, though, went back to the map and gestured to Bread Crumb Village, to the seven black pushpins stuck in it.

"How many do they represent?" he said.

"Each one stands for a hundred lives slaughtered by the wolves. As more numbers come in, more tacks will be put up."

"You think..." A lump formed in his throat and pressed against his voice. He swallowed it down. "You think more numbers will come in?"

"It's inevitable. Those tacks could each represent a thousand lives in a few days, _ten_ thousand in a week if the packs fully unite under Grayhead." She picked up a crystal bowl from a pedestal. Inside were hundreds of black pushpins, potentially standing in for millions of lost lives. "Could you imagine, Eric?"

He could, far too well... and he made his choice.


	58. Resignation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 58  
 **RESIGNATION**  


Penny's castle, with its sprawling keep and high towers, darkened the night sky like a vast shadow. Fortunately, the waxing gibbous moon—a few days away from being dangerously full—provided enough light to ride horses by, and it lit Fez and Rhonda's way to the gates. Their friends should have arrived three days ago. He trusted Penny to keep them safe, but if she hadn't, wolves would be the least of her problems.

"Welcome, Your Majesty!" Red Caps said. They were stationed at the gates and let him and Ronda through on their horses. Red Caps hadn't given them any resistance on their ride into the City of Needles, either. Penny seemed to be following Nine Kingdoms protocol to the letter, but whenever she did anything "by the book," it roused Fez's suspicions.

The gatehouse approached rapidly as he and Rhonda road their horses. They pulled on the horse's reins and stopped them; then they dismounted, and young attendants took the horses off to the stables.

"Fez!" Penny emerged from the gatehouse in a scarlet cloak, and Fez caught sight of her standing guard—a sea of Red Caps—behind the iron doors. "My people told me you were on your way. Your timing could not have been better." She grasped both Fez's hands in greeting, and elderly attendants rushed to her side. They were carrying torches that cast light onto himself, Rhonda, and Penny, but shadows flickered over Penny's face. The torches were guttering in a sharp wind. "I'm sure you know about the fall of Bread Crumb Village."

"Yes," Fez said. So Penny was dispensing with both formalities and pleasantries. He understood why. The situation in the Second Kingdom was growing dire. "The wolves are certain to move north quickly. Gretel's half of the kingdom isn't their primary target."

"I know." She glanced behind her at the castle, then up at the mountainside rising above it. "If Grayhead breeches my defenses, the Second Kingdom will no longer be safe for anyone but wolves."

The guttering torchlight gleamed in her eyes then darkened, but her expression remained grave. Her usual confidence seemed to have abandoned her, and his gaze locked onto her scarlet-gloved hands; they were clutching at the wind-whipped fabric of her cloak.

_Yes,_ she did appear unsure of herself. Was that why she'd stolen the Traveling mirror from him? Did she believe it would give her an advantage over the wolves? He had no plans to question her about it, however. No, he had a wholly different strategy.

"Fezzy," Rhonda said and squeezed his arm.

"Thank you, my lovely." Fez refocused and cleared his throat nervously. Penny would not like what he was about to say. "I've sent a third of my army to supplement the Second Kingdom's."

"A _third?_ " Penny said, and anger—or, perhaps, fear—had reddened her cheeks. "A third! That won't hardly be enough! The forests are swollen with wolves. They give birth to so many children at once. Their numbers continue to rise while ours remain stagnant."

"I am sorry, Penny, but I cannot leave my own kingdom undefended. It is still vulnerable after last year thanks to the Evil Queen and the Trolls' invasion."

She turned away from him, and her cloak whipped behind her in the wind. She appeared to be mulling over something, and when she finally turned back around, her original smile resurfaced. "We'll just have to outsmart them.

"Outsmart wolves," he said, "whose very nature it is to be crafty?"

Penny's smile deepened. "It's my nature, too."

* * *

Donna and Eric awoke with the sunrise, and they called Hyde, Jackie, and Kelso into their suite before breakfast. Too much information was piling up, and with Eric planning to speak to the wolves, Donna wanted to be as prepared as possible. Their desk had been pushed to the middle of the room and covered with a tablecloth. Spread across it were Wolfsbane pellets. They represented Grayhead, Penny, and the wolves—as well as the Red Caps, Gretel the Third, and Jackie and Hyde's ring.

"The wolf packs weren't united before recently," Donna said, "not until Queen Gretel was murdered."

"Right," Eric said and waved a hand over Gretel's side of the desk. He was wearing leather gloves, like the rest of them were. "She protected wolves in her kingdom. So with her gone—and believing my cousin is responsible..." he slid a Wolfsbane pellet from Gretel's pile to the wolves', "the wolves think they have to protect _themselves_ and take over the whole kingdom."

"Charlotta, _a Red Cap,_ tried to poison Fez," Kelso said, and he picked a Wolfsbane pellet from the Red Caps' pile. He was using his deep, authoritative voice to speak. "Fez is steward of Gretel's kingdom, known to be benign to wolves. People must've figured he'd honor Gretel's memory by being nice to the wolves himself—or, at least, that he wouldn't be racist against 'em—when recommending a new ruler to the Council of the Nine."

Hyde snatched Charlotta's Wolfsbane pellet from him. "Yeah, the wolves'd want someone ruling the southern kingdom who was like Gretel, someone who'd leave 'em alone. Penny would be at the bottom of their list. So whoever the rogue Red Cap is working for, they had her try to off Fez because they don't want a benign ruler for the wolves—or they want the _wolves_ to believe someone's out to get them." He placed Charlotta's Wolfsbane pellet between Penny's and Grayhead's piles on the desk.

"Charlotta might've been working with a wolf from Grayhead's pack," Eric said. "I smelled him, and she whispered, 'Boltof! Boltof!' as soldiers dragged her away. Speaking from experience, wolves can hear whispers from pretty far distances." He nudged Charlotta's Wolfsbane pellet closer to Grayhead's side.

"The Second Kingdom has no men except for a few grandpas," Jackie said, "and none of them are rich, so they're not marriage-worthy. Human women around here seem to be falling in love with wolves, only it's illegal in Penny's kingdom for them to get married."

"Donna..." Eric suddenly seemed frightened, as if his thoughts were too much to bear, and he gripped her hands through their leather gloves, "my aunt—Penny's mother—was murdered by Grayhead."

"I know, Eric. You told me last night," Donna said, but Eric's grip on her hands tightened.

"All that was left of was an ear, and it was definitely my aunt's ear. It smelled like family... but _why_ an ear? If Grayhead tore her to pieces, or—or—" his breath caught, "or _ate_ her, wouldn't he have made sure to eat _all_ of her?"

"Not if he wanted a trophy," Hyde said.

Jackie hit his chest. "That's disgusting."

"No, it's not," Eric said. "I mean, it _is,_ but it's also relevant." He finally let go of Donna and leaned on the desk. He was staring at Charlotta's Wolfsbane pellet, two-thirds toward Grayhead's. "In the painting Fez showed us during the Council of the Nine, Gretel's body was stuck with needles and had bled out, indicating Red Caps. But something was strange about her ear. I thought the painter had screwed up, but," he peered up at Donna, "what if that wasn't really her ear on her corpse?"

"Then whose ear was it?" Jackie said.

Kelso's arm shot up, as if he had the answer. "Dude, maybe it wasn't an ear at all. Maybe it was something made with magic to _look_ like an ear."

Hyde nodded. "A dummy ear, and Grayhead's got the real one stashed on him somewhere."

"Wait, Hyde... wait," Eric said. "Are you saying...?"

"Who'd gain the most from Gretel's death?" Hyde said. "That's the question we keep freakin' asking ourselves." He put his finger on Charlotta's Wolfsbane pellet. "Seems like Penny would, but that's what The Man _wants_ us to think or, in this case..." he pushed Charlotta's pellet all the way to Grayhead's side, " _The Wolf._ Like Donna said, Gretel's death was the catalyst that gave Grayhead enough power to move forward. He must have killed her, man. A conspiracy against his own kind for 'the greater good'."

"My Ste—my Puddin' Pop is right." Jackie separated a third of the Red Caps' Wolfsbane pellets from their pile. Then she pushed them toward the wolves' pile and Grayhead's pellet. "It's the same reason Charlotta tried to kill Fez. There must be a faction of Red Caps working with Grayhead's pack. They have to believe they'll gain the freedom to marry their true loves—as hairy as they are—under Grayhead's rule."

Donna put more space between the rogue Red Caps and Grayhead. "What if Grayhead didn't authorize the assassination attempt on Fez?"

"I don't know, Donna," Eric said. "That wolf Charlotta worked with was definitely from Grayhead's pack."

"Maybe some of his own wolves have gone rogue, too," she said. "Maybe they're more interested in love than in power."

"Who cares?" Kelso put the rogue Red Caps' pellets closer to Grayhead's again. "Those Red Caps who saved us in the forest and ambushed Grayhead's hideout—they had the perfect chance to take him and his whole pack in. The wolves were totally paralyzed, but the Red Cap leader told her underlings to leave them. She _has_ to be involved in the conspiracy. I mean, if I'd been in her position, Grayhead and his pack would've been in custody."

"It makes sense," Donna said. "How else would they have known where to find Grayhead? The Red Caps knew his village and where his hideout was without any effort. Someone like Grayhead would be too smart to stay in the same place for too long."

Jackie took the Wolfsbane pellet representing the cursed ring, and she held it at eye-level. "Okay, but none of this explains why Grayhead wants the ring. With all those wolves behind him, doesn't he have enough power?"

"Power corrupts..." Hyde closed his hand around the ring-pellet and Jackie's fingers, "and someone who's been corrupted by it always wants more. Who's to say Grayhead's gonna stop at controlling the Second Kingdom? The Evil Queen wanted to rule all Nine, not just Fez's."

_The Evil Queen._ He meant Laurie, possessed by the spirit of Snow White's stepmother. Donna was about to agree with Hyde's point when a loud, repetitive banging on the door stopped her. Someone was knocking, not subtly.

Eric went to the door but didn't open it. "Who is it?" he said.

"Your king!" Big Rhonda shouted. "We've been knocking for three minutes!"

"Oh, Fez!" Eric unlocked the door and opened it. Rhonda probably would've broken it down otherwise.

"Fez!" Jackie ran up to him, but he put up his hand.

"All things in order," he said.

"Like hell," Hyde said. He joined Jackie and slipped an arm around her waist. "Fez, you're gonna—" Grunts replaced his words. He must've been trying to speak about the curse. According to Jackie, the curse was holding his thoughts about it hostage.

"Cease your grunting," Fez said, and he closed and locked the door. Then he saluted Kelso, who saluted him back. Fez was in full Rude-King mode, and Donna didn't like it, but Kelso launched into telling him everything just discussed in the room. The salute must have been Fez's signal for him to do so.

"So Penny's innocent," Eric said at the end of Kelso's report.

"Of Gretel's murder, she may be," Fez said, "but a sexy troublemaker like her will always be guilty of something." He was sitting on the divan with Rhonda now. Their fingers were entwined together, a good sign that their _friend_ Fez was still around. "Has she asked you to talk to the wolves?"

"Yes," Eric said, "and I'm going to do it."

Donna hugged Eric's arm to her. "Not alone, you won't."

"I have to. They don't trust humans, especially not lately."

"No..." she grinned at him, "but they'll trust a wolf with his Red Cap lover—who are both fighting for marriage equality—far more than they'd trust Queen Riding Hood's wolfy cousin."

Eric pulled her in for a kiss. "M'lady is crafty."

"Kelso," Fez said, "I'm bringing in a third of our army to help the southern kingdom fight off Grayhead's forces—"

Kelso scoffed. "That's not enough troops."

"And I want you to lead them. Not all the packs have united under Grayhead's banner yet. If Eric is successful, we may be able to keep Grayhead's ranks at a defeatable number."

"What about Cadell?" Kelso said.

"Your First Lieutenant is good," Fez stood from the divan and clapped Kelso on the shoulder, "but he is no Michael Kelso."

Kelso rocked on his heels and looked at everyone but Fez; then he let out a puff of air. "I can't do it. I've got an oath to protect Jackie and Hyde, and I won't break it. I gotta put them first."

Donna frowned. Kelso's refusal couldn't just be about his oath. If a third of Fez's army was too small an amount to fight off the wolves, then leading his men into battle would be suicide. Why would Fez ask him to do such a thing? Was he that callous? Or maybe the choice explained Fez's rigid attitude. He knew he'd be asking his best friend to risk almost certain death.

"Why can't you enlist the help of the other kingdoms?" Donna said and resisted the urge to clutch Kelso's hand. The last time she'd felt this protective of him was in the Dwarven mines, after he'd broken his back and that insane Huntsman tried to kill him.

"My kingdom borders this one," Fez said. "By the time other kingdoms respond, the Second Kingdom will have surely fallen—unless my army attempts to prevent that from happening."

Hyde strode across two bearskin rugs and stood face-to-face with Fez. "So you're buying time with Kelso's life—and the lives of your soldiers?"

"The Sixth Kingdom borders the Second to the north, but it's under a hundred-years sleeping spell." Fez sounded emotionless, as if the weight of his crown had pressed the humanity out of him. "The Troll Nation borders this kingdom in the south. My realm has a treaty with the Troll Nation, but the Second Kingdom does not. The Trolls could easily take advantage of the Second Kingdom's vulnerability and conquer it themselves."

"They wouldn't do that," Rhonda said.

"I have dealt with the Trolls almost my whole life, my sweet," Fez said, and a small measure of sadness crept into his voice. "As fond of them as you are, you have known them only a week. And, Kelso..."

Fez tried peeking around Hyde's shoulder, but Hyde blocked Kelso from his view—probably on purpose. Like Donna, Hyde clearly cared about him deeply. They all did... except for Fez apparently. He walked past Hyde, and Kelso met his steely gaze.

"I am still your king," Fez said. "You will give our men their best hope against the wolves."

"No, you're my _friend,_ " Kelso said, "and I'd take a sword for you." He dug a hand into his pants pocket and pulled out his golden rank badges. "But I can't die for this kingdom. Maybe with enough guys backing me up, I'd be okay, but I don't belong here, not with magic."

The morning sun was streaming through the suite's windows, and the badges shone dazzlingly bright in Kelso's palm, as if he were holding a golden ball of light. "I'll help you with tactics, with planning," he continued, "and if that makes me a coward, it makes me one. But Betsy deserves a chance to have her dad around..." He dropped his badges onto the desk, among the Wolfsbane pellets. "I gotta choose her."

The suite fell into silence as he left. Fez fixed his stare on the door, but Donna couldn't read him. Was it anger he felt? Betrayal? Or even a dash of relief?

Jackie's voice was the first to break the quiet. "Fez, did you get any new information about the curse? You must have. Both the Elves and Dwarves use magic all the time. They had tell you something, find something in those heavy books of theirs because you just _know_ they have books the size of—"

"J—Sunlight," Hyde said, "let the man talk."

Fez turned from the door, and his expression softened. He appeared to have partly recovered from what was, essentially, Kelso's resignation. "The Elf and Dwarf Kingdoms' most brilliant researchers came to the same conclusion as Miss Muffet, that only personal hatred could fuel such a curse."

"Why?" Jackie said. "The one person in this stupid place who could possibly hate Ste—my Puddin' is dead."

Donna shared a glance with Eric. They both knew it was Laurie she was talking about—possessed by Snow White's stepmother. Hyde had tricked her into trusting him, and it had ultimately led to her downfall.

"Hatred and love both emanate their own kind of powerful magic, especially in the Nine Kingdoms," Fez said. "Jackie, the amount of hatred needed to bind you and Hyde is incredible—considering how powerful your love is for each other. Because you reunited in the woods of my estate, your love became part of the Nine Kingdoms' very fabric."

Rhonda laughed. "Yeah, you gotta check those woods out sometime. They should be renamed Hump Forest. People are doing it with each other all over the place."

"They're having sex there," Eric said and sounded horrified, "because _Hyde and Jackie_ had sex there?"

Jackie blushed, but she also jabbed a finger at his chest. "It was a beautiful moment, Eric. You'd be lucky to have one halfway as spectacular."

"I should make a law banning all lovemaking in my woods," Fez said. He picked Kelso's rank badges from the table and studied them. "But it has been good for the kingdom's morale—not to mention the treasury. People from all over the Nine Kingdoms travel to my estate to heal their faltering relationships. The true love of one couple can affect millions." He put the badges into his pants pockets. "It is the same in Kissing Town, where my grandparents fell in love."

"Snow White and Prince Charmant," Donna said. "That's why people are guaranteed to fall in love there."

"Yes," Fez said, and his brow furrowed, "and because so many can be affected by the true love of one couple, if such a love is broken, then love throughout the Nine Kingdoms can be destroyed. Whoever cursed the ring knew what they were doing, an ingenious mind."

Jackie shook her head, as if she couldn't understand what she was hearing. "But who would want to see love driven from the Kingdoms, driven from everybody?"

"Someone who couldn't stand the sight of love... Someone who'd lost it for himself," Eric said.

"How do you know that?" Donna said.

"Because, Donna," he brushed a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, "that's how I felt when I'd lost you."

* * *

After Jackie and Steven's early-morning meeting with everyone, Steven seemed to disappear. His body remained with Jackie. It ate breakfast in the dining room with her and visited the botanical gardens in the city. It had lunch at a fancy restaurant and played pool in the castle's game room, but Steven barely responded when she spoke to him. He didn't appear to notice, either, when he was holding her hand.

Eric and Donna had gone off with Fez and Penny for the day. They were supposedly strategizing how to approach the wolf villages. But even in their absence, they felt more present to Jackie than Steven did. His mind was elsewhere.

At least Michael stuck close all day, upholding his oath of protection, and that gave Jackie some comfort. In Steven's current state, he'd have no chance if wolves decided to attack. Whenever she asked him what he was thinking about, he only grunted. The curse was to blame, of course, but after dinner she was finished with his mental absence.

Back in their suite, he paced the floor. Paced and paced and paced. In one hand was the list of people who might've wanted revenge on him, and the other hand was scratching the back of his neck raw.

"We're not gonna accomplish anything this way," Jackie said. She was sitting on the divan and growing dizzy from watching him pace. "Maybe finding out who cursed us isn't important. Cinderella said we needed to figure out _why_ we're so cursable."

He stopped pacing, at least for a moment. "There's shit wrong with us."

"No, _Donna and Eric_ are the 'perfect couple,' remember? We just win everything."

He chuckled but resumed his obsessive, repetitive tour of their room. He wasn't going to let this go. He'd stay up all night wracking his brain, but they needed to work together on their problem. And in order for them to do that, he needed to relax.

"You, sit on the bed," she said.

He didn't miss a step in his pacing. "Yeah, you know how well I respond to orders."

She stood up and snatched the list of Steven-Haters from his fingers. "Just like I had to trust you when I was deaf and blind, you have to trust _me._ You're not yourself."

He seemed to tense up even more, and for a brief moment, she thought he'd grab the list back from her; but his arms fell limply at his sides, and he went to the bed.

* * *

"Trusting" was not a quality Hyde would ever ascribe to himself, but he _was_ a risk-taker, and relinquishing his control to Jackie qualified as one hell of a risk. They were naked on the edge of the bed, with her sitting behind him. Her breasts pressed warmly into his back, and her thighs fit snugly around his butt. She was stroking him from the base of his growing erection to the tip, but his body stubbornly held onto its tension.

She must have noticed because her free arm wrapped around his waist, and her strokes became stronger, bolder. He reached up and cupped the back of head, and he drew her in for a kiss. Their lips joined in a rhythm not synced to her hand, and his obsessive thoughts ebbed from the shores of his awareness.

"You can close your eyes," she said after their mouths parted.

His eyes drifted shut, and he leaned his head back on her shoulder. Jackie doing this for him was a big deal, man. She was giving to him without reciprocation—though he'd reciprocate later if she'd let him.

Tranquility spread through him as she pushed balmy kisses into his cheek. He started to moan in short bursts, and the sound startled him. He usually kept his voice under tighter control, but his joy flowed freely—not because of the curse. And not only because of the increasing pressure Jackie applied to him. His joy came from Jackie herself, from the fact that _she_ was the one touching him... and that she delighted in touching him.

"God, I love how you sound," she whispered. Her free hand swept over his chest and pressed into his happily pounding heart.

He wanted to give a more coherent response than a moan, but the sensation of her loving him cracked him open like an egg. His defenses lay in splinters, and his mind tumbled into the gaping breach.

His consciousness crawled out into his old room at the Formans'. Pink Floyd's _Dark Side of the Moon_ was playing on his stereo, and the air smelled like a mixture of his stash and Jackie's floral-fruity perfume.

The transition into memory didn't feel weird. It never did. He was sitting on his cot, reading _MAD_ magazine, while Jackie read _Cosmo_ on the old dusty armchair _._ They were two months into their relationship, and they'd gone beyond kissing. Not all the way, but she'd let his hands and mouth explore her body without restriction. She seemed to dig it. Hell, he _knew_ she dug it. No chick could sound that happy and be miserable.

But he never asked for anything back. Strangely, making her feel good was enough for him—and it scared him a little. That had never happened with a chick before her. He didn't expect to get anything back either, not until she was ready. She refused to do anything to men below the belt with her hands or mouth. It was her policy, she said, and she'd stuck to it even with Kelso.

Her policy, however, had loopholes. She'd teased Hyde a few times by grinding into his lap for half a minute. And the other day, she'd seemed real interested in how his body—his _whole_ body—looked. She'd wanted to take a peek, and he obliged. She hadn't revealed, though, if she'd thought anything about his nakedness one way or the other.

"The Great Gig in the Sky" decayed into its hushed ending, barely audible through Hyde's speakers, and Jackie threw down her magazine loudly and with obvious purpose. "I want to try it," she said from the armchair.

Hyde popped his head from _Spy vs. Spy._ "Try what?"

She pointed to his belt buckle with one hand and curled the fingers of her other.

He laughed. "You wanna give me a handjob?" She nodded. "You won't even touch an egg because it 'comes out of a chicken butt'."

"Your thing isn't a chicken butt."

"My what?"

" _It,_ Steven. Your—you know what it is."

He got off the cot and went over to her. "My knee?" He leaned his hands on the chair's armrests, effectively locking her in. "My nose?" He bent down for a kiss. She let him have one before she shoved him back.

"No, your _thing,_ " she said and stood up.

He smiled teasingly and pinched her blouse cuff. "Okay, why do you wanna touch my 'thing' all of a sudden? You'd have to look at it, too, and I thought 'those things' were 'better felt and not seen.'"

She glanced down at her nails. "Yours doesn't look so bad."

"It doesn't, huh?" He grasped her hips and pulled her close. "In comparison to...?"

"Steven..."

"In comparison to Steven? Man, you dated another guy with the same name? So you're with me 'cause of a sick feti—"

"To Michael's!" she blurted and swatted his ass. He stiffened at the name, though he'd been the one pushing her to say it. "Michael's thing was all... _eww._ Partly because he treated it like a toy. I mean, he used to put Mr. Potato Head eyes on it—"

Hyde shut her up with his kiss. She'd given him visuals he didn't need, but his mouth seemed to do the trick, coaxing more pleasant thoughts from her.

"Actually... " she gazed lustfully below his belt buckle, "I love the way yours looks."

"Jackie, a dick's a dick."

Her palm cradled his cheek, and she spoke as if he were a schoolboy in need of a lesson. "Believe me, there are important differences."

"Yeah..." He plunked down on the cot and pulled her onto his lap, "don't enlighten me." One of her hands threaded through his curls. The other played with his fingers, which were resting on her knee. "So, why now?" he said.

"Because," she stroked his index finger, causing his legs to shift beneath her, "you've never asked. You give a lot to me. I wanna make you feel good—without you having to do anything but enjoy it."

His face broke into a grin, and it was too strong to tamp down. Jackie Burkhart, Queen of Ulterior Motives, sounded like she meant it. The opportunity was too good to pass up.

"Okay," he said. He lifted her off his lap and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Back in a sec. Flex those fingers."

He dashed from the room. No one was lounging on the basement's ratty couch, but he checked the shower for Fez as a precaution. _Nope._ Just the cases of beer Hyde had stashed behind the curtain. He rushed to the washer and dryer and found a roll of paper towels. Then he barreled back into his room and locked the door behind him..

"What do we need that for?" Jackie said, and he dropped the roll of paper towels behind her. She was still sitting on his cot with her denim-clad knees together.

"You won't," he said. "They're for me." He flipped his _Dark Side of the Moon_ record to side B, and "Money" thumped through the speakers. "Hey, Jackie..." He started to unbuckle his belt and swiveled his hips, which made her giggle. His jeans fell to his ankles, and he kicked them aside. Then he pulled off his boxers.

Jackie smiled brightly and gave him a long, absorbing look. He was already a little hard from anticipation, and the expression on her face made him harder.

"Spread your legs," he said.

She arched an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Look, I gotta show you how to do this. It's gonna be easier if you see it from my perspective."

"Oh."

"Scoot back," he said after she parted her knees. He sat between them on the edge of the cot and settled his butt comfortably against her.

She dropped one of her hands onto his thigh, and her face moved to the side of his arm.

"Got a good view?" he said.

"Mm-hmm."

"Okay, small grasshopper, first lesson is the grip." He encircled the base of his shaft with his fist. "See, you don't want to squeeze it to death, but it's gotta be firm."

"Can I practice on your hand?" she said.

"Sure."

She grasped the index and middle fingers of his left hand with a loose fist. "Like this?"

"Harder," he said. "It's not gonna break." She tightened her grip. "Yeah, that's more like it. Okay, second lesson is movement." He stroked the length of himself to the tip and back to his stomach. "It's not a straight movement. It's got a little twist to it."

"A twist?"

He nodded and showed her again, sending a small shudder of pleasure into his body. The fact she was playing student to his teacher was freakin' hot, man. But more than that, she acted like she really wanted to do this for him.

"Like in pool," he said. "You gotta put some English on it. Give it a shot."

She glided her closed palm over his fingers and wrenched them so his knuckles hurt. The feeling made him shrink.

"Less spin, less spin," he said with some panic.

"Is the stupid twist really necessary?"

"Kinda. Here..." He let go of himself to enclose her wrist in his fist. He demonstrated what he meant, and she gasped.

"Oh! I think I get it!" she said and tried again on his hand. "Like this?" Her grip wound around his fingers at exactly the right torque.

" _Muuuch_ better." He sighed, half in relief, half in anticipation. "Okay, you got the basics down. Let's test 'em out."

Jackie withdrew her hands from his body, and she pressed her forehead into his back, as if she were overcome by a bout of shyness. "What if I'm no good, Steven? I'm supposed to be good at everything."

" _Supposed to,_ " she'd said, not " _am_ " _._ The admission surprised him as much as her desire tonight. She'd done that constantly since they'd gotten together—surprised him.

"Hey..." He palmed her knees at his hips. "I don't give a shit, okay? It's cool you even wanna try."

Her face peeked from behind his arm. "Really?"

"Yeah." He glanced back at her. She was such a mixture of self-confidence and insecurity. He found it both aggravating and endearing. "So, you wanna keep going?"

Her hand grasped the base of his shaft in answer. She started off with slow strokes, but she remembered the right amount of pressure and the twist. The feel of her fingers on him, the idea she hadn't done this for anyone else before made his erection grow swiftly. But then she sucked in a breath and hesitated.

"You okay?" he said, and a weird sound, like a cry mangled by a cheer, leapt from her throat. "Jackie?"

"I'm fine," and her hand resumed its movement on him. "I've just... you're the only person who's ever asked me that question when I was fooling around with him."

"What question?"

"If I'm okay."

Hyde chuckled softly. "You've only ever been with Kelso."

"Isn't that enough?"

His chuckles burst into laughter. "Man, I wish he could see you doin' _what_ you're doin' and hear you say that."

"I can't believe you're talking at all." She wrapped her free arm around his stomach and held him tightly. The heat of her body passed through his thin shirt and soaked into his back. "Steven, you really care that I'm here, don't you?"

He gave her knees a small squeeze. "Yup."

She didn't say anything else but intensified the strength of her strokes. Forceful waves of pleasure pulsed through him They traveled through his bloodstream and into his throat, escaping as low grunts. But he reined them in and forged them into words.

"You never... did this for... Kelso?" he said.

"No," she said. "He didn't deserve it."

He took in a shallow breath and shut his eyes. "Cool." Then he did something he'd never done with any chick who'd handled him this way: He relaxed. His muscles, his mind, his guard, they all settled into the throbbing, intoxicating sensations she was giving him.

Other girls who'd done this with him were always rough and fast—and on the floor in front of him, using their hand as a precursor to something else. But Jackie seemed to enjoy the feel of him inside her fingers, how his body was responding to her. She made sure to give attention to the whole length of him, varying the speed and pressure and even the focus of her strokes. Made sense why the varsity cheer squad accepted her during her freshman year of high school. She was a freakin' fast learner.

Her cheek pressed into his arm. She was watching herself make him harder, apparently fascinated by the process. "God, that is so hot," she said. But then she cut back her movement, stopping short of his erection's tip. "Um... Steven, what _is_ that stuff?"

He looked down at himself. Man, she really _hadn't_ done this with Kelso. "That's the stuff," he said between labored breaths, "that comes out before the _other_ stuff comes out. Like _your_ stuff. Oils the gears."

"Do I have to touch it?"

"No."

"Okay."

She moved her palm over his tip. A deep moan erupted from him as she coated his shaft with viscous fluid. Another surprise. _Jackie Burkhart,_ of all people, was pushing past her own discomfort to make him feel good. His head leaned back on her shoulder, but he didn't close his eyes. He kept his gaze on her face as a grin pushed into his cheeks.

Her hand stopped moving. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Am I frowning?"

"No."

"You're doing great, doll."

Thankfully, she resumed her strokes. He slid his palm over the hand she kept on his stomach and brushed his lips against her earlobe before pulling it into her mouth. She gasped and looked at him with wide eyes, as if she were shocked he gave her any attention. Then she eased into a smile, and she shook her head slightly

"Steven Hyde... you're ridiculous." She placed a kiss on his lips and returned to her task.

Low grunts escaped his throat again. The pressure building up in him would soon need release. He sat up straight. Then he brought Jackie's hands to his mouth and kissed them.

"I'll take it from here, small grasshopper," he said.

"Why?"

"You really have to ask?"

"I wanna finish you off, Steven."

"Trust me, you're not gonna like it." He was stroking himself lightly now, to avoid the pain of stopping right before climax.

"Maybe..." she curled her fingers around his erection again, "but I really like how you looked a few seconds ago, so peaceful. I've never seen you that way—not outside of the circle. And _I'm_ the one who made you that way."

Hyde laughed at the pride in her voice and patted her thigh. "You sure are, baby. But it's gonna be a hot, sticky mess—on _your_ hand. A lot worse than an egg."

"I don't care. I want that moment, Steven. It's going to stay with me, and I want it."

Her seriousness stunned him. This was a big deal for her. He didn't know why, if it was about her ego or something deeper, but he relented. He returned his hands to her knees, and Jackie took over.

"You better clean me up afterward," she said.

"Goes without saying."

He shut his eyes again, and his breath shuddered. Joy was spreading from her hand to the rest of his body. His head dropped serenely back onto her shoulder, but the throbbing pressure soon reached its peak. He clutched her knees and exploded into her hand, and an overwhelming feeling of gratitude radiated from his center. He was grateful that s _he_ was the one who was here, holding him, letting him release himself like this. Grateful he could trust her.

She slowed but didn't stop her movements as he came, and one feeling shot from his heart into his almost didn't catch it in the haze of his euphoric finish, but it was there, newborn and solid:

_He loved her._

The vulnerable thought sank back into the safety of his heart, and he grabbed the roll of paper towels behind Jackie. For a handjob, man, that had been fucking surreal.

He stood up from the cot. Jackie's hand was raised in the air, but she didn't seem disgusted. Her other hand rested on her knee, and she had bliss in her eyes.

"What?" he said and tore a few paper towels off the roll.

"You said my name," she said quietly.

He wiped the remnants of himself off her hand, and he made sure to get the paper towel between her fingers. "I did?"

"Yeah, right at the end."

"Huh." He had no recollection of it, but he believed her. "Well... it was something else."

"Really?" She was beaming. The sight made him want to push her down on the cot and kiss her until she came herself.

Instead, he grabbed the waste basket from the floor and tossed the paper towels into it. "Best I ever had."

The words echoed between his ears as darkness thrust itself into his skull, but the sounds fell away, too. He felt as though he'd been shoved deep underwater, and when he surfaced, it was to his own moans. But they had cohesion, a definite structure: " _Jackie... Jackie._ "

He was moaning her name back in Penny's castle. Jackie was pumping joy into the very core of him with her hand. What she gave throbbed unceasingly through his veins, circulated through his arteries and heart. But a shadow chased it like poison.

"Jackie..." He opened his eyes into blackness, "J—" but the name was lost to him again. "Sunlight?" he said desperately, as if calling her could rupture the dark. Something was definitely wrong here. His body felt clothed and upright, like he was standing. He blinked a few times, and his vision flared bright white before fading into its normal, darkened state behind his shades.

The Pinciottis' living room was muted to a tolerable level of garishness, but his shades couldn't blind him to the sight on the couch: _Jackie and Kelso._ Kelso's head was on her shoulder. Her fingers were brushing through his hair.

_What the hell?_ Hyde intended to say, but the words died, stillborn. He wanted to tear Kelso from Jackie's body, but his arms hung heavily at his sides. Most of all, he needed to believe this was an innocent act of friendship, but his heart grew brittle with an overwhelming sense of betrayal.

His eyes closed as he turned into the hallway. They popped open a moment later to a hideous floral bedspread. He stared at the cream-colored walls surrounding him, at the generic pastoral paintings they displayed. This room was at the Holiday Hotel. He considered running for the door.

"Tell me all about it, baby," a woman said, and something warm and soft eased into his hands. The woman was completely naked, and she'd closed his fingers around her breasts. She wasn't a bad looking chick— _damn it,_ she was beautiful, but in a way that meant nothing to him.

He pushed his mouth against her lips in an angry kiss, but she seemed to like it. The moist, deepening slide of her tongue told him as much. Exactly what he needed, a _naughty_ nurse.

She pulled him onto the bed and unbuttoned his cook's jacket. Her musky perfume and the scent of fresh sheets should've helped his mood, but they only intensified the memory of what he'd lost. She slipped her long, supple fingers beneath his cotton undershirt. Her body was warm, but none of her heat seeped into him. Then she tried to take off his shades.

He stopped her.

"You're a little kinky, huh?" she said with an enticing smirk.

He didn't smirk back. His hands slid between her bare legs and spread them open. Silently, he slunk to the edge of the bed. Then his mouth moved to the hot, moist center of her thighs and gave her all it had as payment for what he would take.

Low moans issued from her throat. They grew shorter and higher in pitch until tortured breaths disrupted them. "H—honey," she said, "don't be selfish." He stopped what he was doing and stared at her. Her gaze was completely overtaken by lust. "Let a girl return the favor." She reached her hands toward him, and he helped her sit up. "What's your name, hot stuff?"

He kept his mouth shut.

"All right, I can deal with that." She dragged a finger along the waistband of his pants. "How about I just call you 'Doctor'?"

"That's cool," he said, but her voice didn't matter. His eyes locked on the pale walls of the room. All he could see was Jackie on the Pinciottis' couch... with Kelso.

"Doctor, I've got something for that," the nurse said.

"Huh?" He tried to focus as she removed his pants and pulled him free of his boxers.

"No better cure for a broken heart," she said, and her mouth surrounded him. But that wasn't what he needed, and he gently pushed on her shoulders. She released him and annoyance cut into her lust. "Looks like I've got an acute case on my hands. What is it you want, baby?"

"Something else." His fists clenched, and Jackie's beaming smile shone behind his eyes. _Something he'd never had in the first place._

The nurse spoke against his thigh and drew out her words. "You can have me _anyway you want._ "

He pulled a stiff breath into his lungs. The cosmos had played another damn joke on him, but he was done playing.

"You got any rubbers?" he said. She gestured to the white heap on the floor, her nurse's uniform. He took a condom from one the pockets. "Turn around."

She seemed to know what he intended because she bent herself over the edge of the bed. The sight of her slick, heated entrance brought no joy. He slid on the condom, but his erection wasn't fueled by lust but by pain.

Her butt wriggled in the air playfully. This was what he needed, no questions. No complications. He glanced at the door again as his hands grabbed her hips. Nothing but hell would be on the other side of that door unless took what this nurse was offering him.

He entered her in one deep, pissed-off thrust. She cried out, but his own grunt he bit down. This was an ending and nothing that deserved his voice. His fingers dug into her hips as he slammed himself into her repeatedly. _Fuck you,_ he thought with each chaotic stroke. _Fuck you._

"Oh, God, baby," the nurse said between ragged pants. "I knew you'd be a good screw."

But it was Jackie his heart was fucking—fucking _away_ from him. This was the one act she'd never forgive, a guarantee she wouldn't try to lure him back. He hated her... hated the fool she'd made of him... hated that she'd made him love her. Torment always followed reward. Nothing good ever lasted.

The nurse screamed in pleasure, and the sound dragged him back into the room. She was convulsing around him, coming. His muscles tightened painfully in response; he lost control of his rhythm. This was an ending, and he shut his eyes against the waves of hollow ecstasy hitting him.

"Whatever," he muttered and opened his eyes.

He was at the Pinciottis' house again, in Donna's room this time, and standing up. The back of his calves were flush against her bed. His shades dangled loosely from his fingers. Jackie sat across from him on her cot, face full of fury and so fucking beautiful. He recognized the pain in those blazing eyes. His shattered heart had passed it onto them.

"Jackie..." he could barely look at her, "I love you."

The words were a plea, as if they could explain, as if they could mend what he'd broken. He wasn't freakin' Kelso. He didn't screw some random chick because he was bored and horny. Love and pain and rage had driven him to it. He'd needed to destroy the connection between Jackie and himself, to avenge a wound she hadn't actually given him—and to protect himself from being wounded again. But he knew now that protection wasn't necessary, not from her. And he'd never use another weapon like that again.

Jackie's eyes softened, giving him a breath of hope. Then they kindled with renewed fury. "Yeah, well... I don't love you."

She left him alone in Donna's room without another glance. _Come on,_ he wanted to say, but he slumped to the bed. He didn't believe her declaration for a second, but she'd do everything in her power to make it the truth. Just as he'd done.

Hyde clutched his shades and closed his eyes. He lived his whole life waiting for a knee to smash his joy apart, never trusting things would turn out all right for him—because they never did. Good things always had an expiration date, but he was the one who'd incinerated Jackie's trust... and himself in the process.

"Puddin'?"His eyes opened. He was naked and back in the castle, sitting on the bed. Jackie was on his lap now, and she cupped the sides of his face. Heat passed into his cheeks where she touched him, dull and aching.

"Baby, what is it?" she said.

He tried to speak, to tell her about the memories flooding his system, but only a strained murmur left his throat. Not because he didn't want to tell her. The words refused to be formed by his tongue and voice.

Jackie didn't push him, but worry clouded her features. She stood from his lap and picked up her clothes.

He opened his mouth to say her name, but her name refused to be spoken. "Damn it!" he said instead and drew a glare from her.

"It's the curse, isn't it?" she said and tossed him his pants. He wanted to nod, but his head wouldn't budge. So he put on his pants, and she pulled on her own pair. "I don't get it, Puddin'. One moment, you're as happy as I've ever seen you; the next, you're tense as hell. Did I do something wrong?"

_No,_ he thought, but all that left him was a sigh. She didn't turn away as she put on her blouse. Her gaze was fixed on his eyes, as if she were searching them for answers.

"You're beautiful," he said, and his pulse sped up. He was still able to say that much, at least.

She returned to him and sat on his lap again. "What is going on with you?"

That same dull and aching heat passed into his hands as he cradled her face. "It's okay, Sunlight. Nothing's goin' on. I—" _love you._ The words were in his mind. He tried to force them from his throat, but they were lost to him, too.

The irony of the situation,however,wasn't lost on him. Losing Jackie had been necessary to make those words originally leap off his tongue. Losing her _again_ had taught him say, "I love you," more than once a year—even though he felt it every day.

"Baby," she said and looked at him pleadingly, "stop protecting me. It's _not_ nothing. After you finished in my hand, you kept saying—" her voice caught, and her eyes grew wet, "you kept saying, 'Fuck you. Fuck you.' You growled it, but I know it wasn't directed at me. It couldn't have been."

Shame festered in the corners of his heart. The rage _had_ been directed at her, at Jackie from years ago, falsely accused.

"I'm a selfish asshole, J—" her name halted in his chest, "Sunlight"

"No." She slid her arms around his bare back, sending more aching heat into his muscles, and she pulled him tightly against her. "No."

He buried his face in her hair. The curse hadn't just tightened; it was strangling him.


	59. Hostile Takeover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 59  
 **HOSTILE TAKEOVER**  


A sharp nudge ripped Kelso from his butterfly-and-blood-filled dreams, and he let out a scream at Fez's face. It was hovering above him, all spooky-like. Orange light from a single sconce made Fez look like a jack-o'-lantern, and Kelso hated those creepy pumpkins. On Halloween, he could never shake the feeling they wanted revenge on mankind for scooping out their guts.

Today wasn't Halloween, though, and Kelso calmed down as he got his bearings. He was in Penny's castle. Darkness enveloped his room except for the sconce, and outside his window the moon remained in the sky. The time had to be very early morning.

"I'm sorry for waking you," Fez said, "but I have needs."

Kelso rubbed the grit from his eyes. He'd avoided Fez all-day yesterday after reusing to lead the Fourth Kingdom army. A third of Fez's soldiers against tens of thousands—maybe even _hundreds_ of thousands—of wolves? Even Kelso was smart enough to recognize a suicide mission. "Look," he said and rolled over onto his side, "it's Brooke I'm in love with, okay? You throwing yourself at me isn't gonna make me change my mind about—"

"The Traveling mirror has been stolen from my castle."

"What?" Kelso sat up in the bed, and he tried not to think about being trapped in the Nine Kingdoms forever. "Do you know who nabbed it?"

"Aubrey—"

"Your head attendant? No way."

"Yes. She is a _she..._ and a Red Cap spy," Fez said. "I believe Penny is behind the theft and that the mirror is in the castle somewhere."

"Dude, I totally know why." Adrenaline kick-started Kelso's system—mysteries tended to do that to him—and burned out the remnants of grogginess. "She's just taking back what she thinks is hers. Yeah, your grandma gave the first Traveling mirror to Eric's grandma as a gift. And before you ask how I know that, Penny told Eric, and Eric told me."

"That is interesting..." Fez sat down on the corner of Kelso's bed, and he laced his fingers together over his knee, "but it doesn't explain what she plans to use the mirror for. Does she want to visit her family in Florida more often? But she has always been free to use the mirror at her discretion. No. Whatever the reason, it cannot be good."

"But Eric trusts her."

"I hope not too much."

"She's also got a heartstone," Kelso said.

Fez stiffened. "Ai... the Dwarves must have given it to Bernice when the Nine Kingdoms were united. Duergar cannot make magic. They can only absorb it. They stole the heartstones from the Dwarves over a thousand years ago." He stood up and clapped his hands once. The other sconces in the room kindled, and Kelso shut his eyes at the sudden brightness. "I need you to help me search for the mirror now while Penny sleeps. The castle is full of Red Cap guards, but they are young. Our experience gives us the advantage."

Kelso jumped out of the bed, ready to go... except for the detail of wearing nothing but a pair of silk pajama bottoms. He went to the dresser and pulled out his clothes. "The Red Caps are trained not to fall for the wolves' crafty advances—unless it means falling in love with them, I guess."

"They must be distracted," Fez said. "I shall provide that distraction. The mirror will likely be kept in the castle's lower levels or up in the towers.

"Great... stairs." Kelso pulled on the white pants of his Captain-of-the-Guard uniform. "If you don't hear from me again, you'll know why."

"Don't worry, little buddy. I'll check the east tower myself after I distract the Red Caps. It is twice as tall as the west tower."

"Yeah, I wonder why," Kelso said. "The architect of this castle must've been hopped up." He was dressed now, and he patted Fez on the shoulder. "Thanks for taking on the worse tower."

"No, thank you." Fez removed something from his pants pockets: Kelso's rank badges. "You have been a fabulous Captain of the Guard. Your talent for tactics thrived in the Nine Kingdoms, and I never would have chosen you to lead our— _my_ men unless I believed you could lead them to victory. But please know, my friend, that I respect your choice... and you." He grasped Kelso's wrist and poured the badges into his palm.

"No, Fez, I don't—"

"They have no official status anymore, but they are yours. You've earned them. Have them mounted and framed when you get home."

_Home..._ Fez meant through the mirror with Betsy—and maybe even Brooke. Kelso didn't know what to say, so he opened his arms and enclosed Fez in an embrace.

"You have done more for me than anyone else has in my life," Fez said and hugged him back. His voice was shaky and full of tears. "I love you truly, and you are irreplaceable to me—even if it doesn't seem that way sometimes."

"Aw, man... I don't wanna cry over a dude." But Kelso was already blubbering like a chick. He loved Fez, too, just not the Nine Kingdoms. But he wouldn't be leaving them without... "The mirror!" He stopped crying and wiped his eyes on Fez's shirt. "Let's go find it."

* * *

Fez stood by a broken window in one of the castle's dimly-lit hallways. His left arm was riddled with bleeding scratches and puncture wounds, not from the window but his now-discarded knife.

Red Caps charged the scene, and he shouted, "A wolf infiltrated the castle!" His rapier was gripped in his right hand, and he breathed heavily for effect. "I fought him off. He climbed up the outer walls..."

"We must alert Queen Riding Hood!" a Red Cap said, but Fez stopped her from running off.

"No, do not bother Her Majesty with this unless it is absolutely necessary. She needs her sleep to—to have as clear a mind as possible in the morning. She has an army to command, and I believe this wolf was just a lone scout."

The Red Cap bowed. "Yes, Your Highness." Then she issued orders to her companions. The older Red Caps were to sweep the castle grounds in case any more wolves were lurking about. The younger ones were to keep guard inside the castle and tend to Fez's wounds.

Fez had to admire the Red Caps' efficiency. They didn't hesitate to follow their leader's commands. They split up, and some went to inform those not present of their duty.

"These cuts look so clean," a young Red Cap said. She was dabbing Fez's bleeding arm with a sticky cloth. "Are you sure it was a wolf who attacked you?"

"Yes, yes. The tail gave him away."

"It's after two in the morning, "another Red Cap said. "What were you doing wandering the castle at this hour?"

"Are kings not allowed to have insomnia?" he said and scowled for added emphasis.

"Of—of course, Your Highness," the young Red Caps said together, and they bowed their heads.

* * *

Fez had done his job, and Kelso smiled inwardly. He was hiding in a kickass spying spot—behind both a statue of Prince Aurick and a bearskin rug. With the majority of Red Caps outside, he and Fez would have far less eyes to avoid.

Once the way was clear, Kelso began his search in the bowels of the castle. He didn't want to climb all those stairs in the west tower first and get tired out. The recreational basement was empty of Red Caps—and the Traveling mirror. None of the storage spaces were big enough to contain it, not the cubbies or even the closet. But castles like this always had secret passages, at least according to _Scooby-Doo,_ so he tapped random bricks in the wall until he struck lucky and one threw off blue sparks. He tapped it again, and more blue sparks popped then vanished.

"All right!" he whispered. "Finally, years of cartoon-watching have paid off."

He tried pushing on the brick, but no secret passageways opened up—not that he expected them to. Finding his way into the wall couldn't be that easy. He tapped the bricks directly to the left and right of the magic one. No effect. He tapped the bricks directly above and below. Nada. Then he tapped the brick diagonally above to the right and... _jackpot._ It threw off green sparks. Some kind of pattern had to be hidden in the wall.

He tapped bricks all around the two magic ones and discovered three more. They gave off yellow, orange, and indigo sparks respectively. All the magic bricks together created an upside-down V, but that discovery did him little good. He tapped them in different orders and nothing.

The green-sparking brick was at the apex of the upside-down V. More bricks had to be part of the patten. Maybe the V-shape was longer, and he tapped the brick diagonally below the orange-sparking one. It threw off red sparks, but then the brick itself also glowed red... and stayed that way. This new development made Kelso stand back and think a moment.

The red brick had to be the first in the sequence, but now the upside-down V was lopsided. He took a risk and tapped the brick that would even it out on the other side. Violet sparks shot off it, and the red brick faded back into gray.

"Damn..."

Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. The colors reminded him of the toy xylophone Betsy played with. He tapped the red-sparking brick again, and it returned to glowing red. He tapped the orange one next. It gave off sparks and glowed orange. So now he had a red brick and an orange brick. Cool. He tapped the yellow, green, blue, and indigo bricks in that order, and they all lit up with their colors.

Only the violet brick remained to be activated. He tapped it and jumped backward, just in case something exploded, but the brick glowed violet then turned red. The indigo one became red, too, as did the blue one. All the bricks of the upside-down V grew red in turn, and the gray bricks beneath the V evaporated into red smoke.

Kelso covered his nose and mouth, but his eyes didn't water. The smoke seemed harmless, and when it dispersed, an eerily-lit tunnel stood in its place. The opening was a third-way up the wall but big enough for him to fit. He poked his head inside Red sigils were carved in the tunnel's ceiling. They'd illuminate his way forward, and he wriggled his body like a snake into the opening.

The tunnel sloped down fairly quickly. It wasn't too steep, but he hoped the incline stayed shallow enough that he could climb back out. That concern, however, was forgotten as a rotten stench clogged his nose. He blocked his mouth with his sleeve and sucked in a deep breath. He held it as he crawled faster than he'd ever crawled before until, finally, the tunnel spat him out into a dark chamber.

Cut into the walls were more of those sigils. These symbols were much bigger, though, they and poured red light onto a coffin at the chamber's heart. This had to be the tomb of Penny's mother, Averill. Cautiously, he peered into the coffin. Inside it was a dried-up ear, sitting on a red velvet pillow.

"Gross," he said and moved beyond the coffin. His search in the tomb didn't produce the mirror, but he found a staircase leading upward relief because he had another way out of here—and one leading down to a level even lower, but an iron gate prevented passage.

He tried picking the lock with the sharp, business end of his rapier, but it was no use. He was better at setting things on fire than breaking into places. He needed Hyde.

* * *

A quiet knock on the door woke Jackie with a start. She slept lightly since taking off the ring, but Steven seemed to be the same. "Stay put," he whispered.

He pulled on a leather glove from his nightstand. Then he grabbed a pouch of Wolfsbane pellets and went to the door. He opened it slowly with a handful of Wolfsbane in his fist, but only Michael was standing outside their suite. "Get in here," Steven said and yanked him inside.

The tiredness Jackie felt combined with the suite's darkness told her she shouldn't be awake. Had to be too early in the morning. She wanted to wrap herself up in the sheets and fall back asleep, but Michael was here for a reason.

"Oh, my God," she sprang from the bed and rushed to Steven's side, "did wolves get into the castle?"

"No," Michael said and snapped his fingers. The sconces around the room lit with candlelight. "But I gotta tell you something almost as bad. Penny stole the mirror—"

"What do you mean 'stole'?" Jackie said. "That mirror's our only way home!" She clutched Steven's arm, and he cried out as if she'd hurt him. "Sorry, baby." She loosened her grip, but her pulse tightened as Michael explained everything—how Fez believed the mirror was hidden in the castle, that Fez had distracted the Red Caps, and where Michael's search abruptly ended.

"It's gotta be down those stairs," Michael said, "but I don't know how to pick a lock."

"I lost my lock pick when the wolves tore me up," Steven said.

Jackie let go of his arm, "Hold on," and darted into the bathroom. She came out with several hairpins.

Steven examined them. "Yeah... these could work."

Michael left the suite to give her and Steven privacy while they dressed. Then he led them down too many staircases to the basement Penny had set up. Fez must have done a great job distracting the Red Caps because they were nowhere in sight.

"So where's this tunnel?" Steven said.

Michael presented one of the basement's gray-brick walls. "Right here."

He pressed his fingers against seven bricks in an upside-down V. They glowed the colors of the rainbow, from red to violet. But then red brick's light traveled along the V and erupted into red smoke. Jackie used her blouse to protect her nose and mouth. Steven did the same with his shirt, but protection wasn't necessary. In moments, the smoke cleared, revealing a triangular opening in the wall.

"You figured that out by yourself?" Steven said and punched Michael gently on the shoulder. "Nice."

The tunnel shone with a ghastly red light, as if it were straight out of a slasher film. In no way did Jackie want to enter, but the three of them crept into the opening. Michael took the lead, she went behind him, and Steven followed her.

She despised tunnels. Rock dust coated her hands, and the place stank of rot. She stuck close to Steven after they emerged into a red-lit chamber. It was the tomb of Penny's mother. Jackie's own tomb would not smell like this. No, her tomb would have air fresheners and perfume and anything to make it a pleasant place to visit.

Not that she planned on having a tomb.

Michael brought them past the coffin with Averill's ear. Steven looked inside, but Jackie declined. Dead bodies and body parts were disgusting. The iron gate blocking the stairwell wasn't much better. Ambient red light shone on the metal and made it appear scalding hot, as if the gate led to hell.

"J—Sunlight, you gotta let go of me," Steven said. "Can't work like this." She was gripping his arm tightly again, and the strain in his voice meant she really was hurting him. Her fear had to be fueling her strength.

"Just get that thing open," she said and let him go.

Using one of her hairpins, he had the lock picked in under a minute. "Easy peasy, man." He gave the gate a shove, and it opened with a shrill yawn.

"Enjoy your search, Michael," Jackie said, perhaps a little too blithely, but she had no plans of going down into that hellish darkness. Michael could bring out the mirror himself.

She reached for Steven's hand, but he wasn't beside her anymore. He'd pushed in front of of Michael and started down the stairs.

"Ste—baby!" she shouted.

Steven glanced back at her. "You remember what Kelso did to the first mirror, right? If he breaks this one, we're done. There's no spare."

"Hey, I was drunk—and on a roof!" Michael said. "I'm sober now."

"Whatever. You're not hefting that thing up these stairs by yourself." Steven extended his hand for Jackie to take. She did, and his jaw seemed to clench. Something strange was definitely going on with him. He'd headed down the stairs without even warning her. He would've left her in the tomb if she hadn't called out for him. That wasn't like him at all.

Michael reclaimed the lead. "I wish I had a flashlight," he said, "or Eric's lightbulb hand."

Darkness swallowed them, and they climbed deeper and deeper until the ghastly red light returned. The stairs let them out into another chamber with sigils glowing in the walls. They beamed at a coffin, smothering it in blood-red light.

Jackie's eyes stung with the overwhelming smell of death, and her breathing grew shallow. She tugged on Steven's arm, "Let's get out of here... _now,_ " but he pulled free of her.

"Huh," he said and leaned over the coffin. "It's the old bitch herself."

"Who?" she said but stayed with Michael by the stairs.

Steven didn't look back at her. His gaze remained fixed on whatever— _whoever_ —was in the coffin. "Eric's grandma."

"But her funeral was in Point Place," Michael said. "Open casket and everything. How'd her body get here?"

"Are you sure it's her, Ste—Puddin'?" Jackie said.

Steven waved for her to join him. "See for yourself."

She didn't move. "No, I trust you."

But Michael went to the coffin. He took a glimpse over the edge then shrank back. "Oh, that's Grandma Forman, all right. Man, is she corpse-y."

"Penny must have brought the body back through the mirror.," Jackie said.

"But when she died, the other Traveling mirror was in Snow White Memorial Prison," Michael said, "and Laurie—I mean, the Evil Queen had buried the other one in one of her castles."

"Maybe it was magic," Steven said. "Maybe her body returned to its rightful place." But his voice sounded weird, like he was only half there, like it was only half him speaking.

Jackie finally approached him. Time had come for him to step away from the coffin.

She took ahold of his hand. He whipped around, and a shriek ripped from her. His face was no longer his face but a mangled, bleeding thing, injured by both violence and hate. Michael must have seen it, too, because he let out an equally terrified scream.

"You _know_ what you are," Steven said and grabbed Jackie's wrist. His grip was so hard that it cut off the blood to her hand. "You deceptive animal, you know what you are."

"St—Steven—" she said desperately, but his first name had no effect on him. "I love you... _Please_ —"

"Love is a _lie._ " His mutilated lips were dripping with blood, and his eyes were unrecognizable. "You seduced me to control me, but I see through you now."

He squeezed her wrist tighter, and she cried, "Michael!"

Michael broke free from whatever shock had seized him. He wedged his fingers beneath Steven's and pried him off her.

She rubbed her sore wrist, thankful Michael hadn't punched him. Steven wasn't Steven right now. She didn't know _who_ he was.

"I will burn those you claim to love," Not-Steven said, "turn your love into torment... until love no longer exists."

Jackie could no longer see his horribly damaged face. Michael was keeping himself in front of her, but Steven's seething voice startled her into stumbling backward. She caught herself on the coffin, and the sight of Grandma Forman's rotting, skeletal body buried her consciousness into a deep, black tomb of its own.

* * *

Two deaders had taken over Kelso's friends. He was completely sure of that fact, but he was also afraid to interfere. First, he had no experience with possessions. He didn't want to do more harm than good. Second, he was completely _unsure_ who was doing the possessing. Was it Grandma Forman and Penny's mother? Grayhead's mate or her children—all of whom Penny's mother had killed? Or two people entirely unrelated to any of them?

Whoever they were, Hyde had won the Gross Award with his chewed-up face, and Jackie seemed incredibly sad. She was slumped against the coffin with her head in her hands. "We are broken," she said.

"No," Hyde said, " _they_ will break, freeing all from the curse of love."

Jackie peeked up her head. Her eyes were wet and red, and she touched Hyde's cheek. "I should never have left you—"

Shut up!" Hyde backhanded her across the face, and she crashed to the ground.

Kelso ran to her side to help her up, but her body went limp as if she'd become a corpse.

"What you seek inside me," she said weakly, "has been used up. All I have left are tears."

Hyde's arm shot out, and he grabbed Jackie by the front of her blouse. His other hand went for her throat, but Kelso stopped him. Hyde—whoever possessed him—meant to kill her.

"Hey... hey!" Kelso shouted. He shoved Hyde away from Jackie, and she crumpled back to the ground. "Listen to me, man. Hyde, you gotta come back." He grasped Hyde's shoulders and shook him, but it did nothing.

Hyde struggled to free himself but did so strangely, reacting like Kelso weren't a living being but an inanimate obstacle. If Kelso used force, he'd end up damaging Hyde's body, but would it rid him of his uninvited guest? Probably not. Kelso had watched enough horror movies to know better. He needed to do something that would draw Hyde's consciousness back to the surface. A drastic action needed to be taken, a sacrifice Kelso had to make.

He renewed his grip on Hyde's shoulders and moved in, and he planted a big wet one on Hyde's disgusting, shredded lips. He edged his tongue inside, but a few millimeters seemed to be enough because Hyde knocked him back— _Hyde-_ Hyde. His face no longer resembled ground meat, and he was wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Kelso, what the hell?" He spat a few times, and Kelso tried not to feel insulted. After all, Hyde had gotten to kiss his beautiful face, not a pile of gore.

"Frenching you was no day at the beach for me either, Hyde, but you're _you_ again! You should be thanking me. I—"

Jackie's cries disrupted Kelso's explanation before it began. She was still on the ground, holding her knees to her chest and rocking back and forth. "I loved you as much as I loved him," she whispered. "I loved you just as much..."

* * *

Funerals were entirely too sad for Jackie's liking. People cried and wore black, and depressing organ music usually served as the only entertainment. She hadn't planned to attend the one for Eric's grandmother, but Michael had begged her. So here she was, leaving the coatroom with Michael after a quickie. A _real_ quickie. He hadn't satisfied her at all, and she was still horny from pondering their fragile, human lives.

"Do you wanna check out the dead body?" Michael said. A line had formed in front of Bernice Forman's open casket.

" _Eww!_ " she said, but Michael was already pulling her to the line. "Michael... Michael, no!"

Eric's sister Laurie was smiling over the casket. But she left, and Steven Hyde took her place—and time seemed to slow down. He tilted his scruffy head, and it froze that way.

Jackie looked at Michael. His hand was still holding hers in stiff, unmoving fingers, but he wasn't the one she wanted to touch. It was Hyde—Steven. She'd attended this funeral already, hadn't she? _Years ago._ This wasn't real. This was a memory... or something like it.

She extricated herself from Michael and dashed to Steven's side. He was still frozen, unbreathing, and leaning over Bernice's equally frozen body. Someone had forgotten to close her eyes, but they weren't glassy. They seemed focused—and were staring up at Steven as if she could see him. Jackie shuddered, and she glanced behind herself at Michael...

And found her teenage self standing with him.

"Man, I can't believe they're just gonna throw that ring away!" That was Steven voice speaking, but his lips hadn't moved. Were those his thoughts she was hearing? He was breathing again and blinking, as was everyone else in the funeral home but Bernice.

Slowly, he reached into the casket. The chipped emerald ring on Bernice's finger was the same they'd seen in the Red Riding Hood Museum. He was going to steal it, but Bernice's less-than-dead eyes were watching him.

"Ah, I can't do it!" His thoughts again, and he snatched back his hand. He abandoned the casket and shook his head as if he were disappointed in himself.

"Steven," Jackie said, "Steven, wait!" She tried to follow him, but an invisible barrier held her back.

"Sunlight. Sunlight, snap out of it. Hey—"

Blood-red light burst into the funeral home, and Steven was suddenly in front of her, looking several years older than he'd just been. His thumb caressed the ridge of her ear, soothing her into a state of calm that didn't last. Her eyes felt raw, and her cheeks were wet, and her face throbbed as if she'd been hit.

"I know who did it, baby," she said breathlessly. "I know who cursed us."

* * *

Hyde carried Jackie out of Bernice's tomb and up the stairs. Hot pain cut into his arms where he held her. Maybe it was a residual effect from being possessed, but he didn't care. She was still somewhat out of it and too wobbly to walk on her own.

"Eric's grandma's cursed you?" Kelso said behind them. "But she's a corpse!"

Hyde grunted, but he'd been attempting to speak. Jackie had confirmed his suspicions. Bernice never did like him, and according to Forman's stories about her, she could be as nasty as they come.

"Steven tried to steal her ring," Jackie said, and nausea billowed up from his stomach into his throat. He managed to put her down safely before he dry-heaved on the stairs. He braced himself against the bannister, and she rubbed his back as his stomach convulsed. But her hand sent more pain into him, like a heated knife slicing into his skin.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she said repeatedly.

"It's all right," he said when the nausea finally passed. "I'm cool."

They continued their climb up the stairs and reached the tomb of Penny's mother. They moved swiftly around the coffin to the tunnel, and Kelso said, "Eric's grandma is still a corpse. No way she could've done it."

Jackie huffed. "You don't know that. How fitting—and petty—is it that my Puddin' Pop tries to steal her ring, and then she curses the ring he gives me?"

_Very,_ Hyde wanted to say, but he could only grunt."

"So how'd she do it?" Kelso said.

"I just got possessed, didn't I?" Jackie said. "Maybe she's the one who 'borrowed' my body. Maybe she possessed someone else, and she cursed me and Puddin' that way. We need to talk to Fez."

Hyde agreed, not that he could verbalize it. Fortunately, he didn't have to. Kelso had also agreed—to the last part—and he claimed to know where Fez was.

They crawled back through the red-lit tunnel. And they climbed the long flight of stairs out of the recreational basement. They trudged what had to be a mile of hallways. Then they hiked up the too-high east tower and finally found Fez who—as sweaty as he was from his own climbing—couldn't match Hyde, Jackie, or Kelso's level of perspiration. Hyde's shirt was sopping wet. Jackie's hair was a stringy mess, and a host of fleas could've water-skied down Kelso arms.

They must have climbed halfway up the tower, but they'd also reached the top of a stairwell. The three of them panted like dogs and half-collapsed onto the landing. They'd probably have to slide back down the stairs. But Jackie and Kelso recovered their speech, and they relayed to Fez what had happened in Bernice's tomb.

"Hyde—well, _possessed_ Hyde, was talking to Jackie like she wasn't Jackie," Kelso said, "and when she got possessed, too, Hyde started talking to her even more weirdly... like she'd become a _third_ completely different person to him."

"Tell me precisely what they said to each other," Fez said, and Kelso did. Hyde had no recollection of any of it except for Jackie's bit at the end. "'I loved you as much as I loved him,'" Fez repeated after Kelso told him. "'I loved you just as much.'" Then he fell silent and cupped his chin, as if deep in thought.

"Fez?" Jackie said.

His hand dropped from his face. "'Two, not one.' I am beginning to understand what Miss Muffet meant."

"When she held the ring?" Jackie said, but Fez didn't get a chance to elaborate. Two young Red Caps climbed down from the tower's heights.

"Your Highness?" one of them said. "Sir Kelso? What are you doing up here?"

"I was sleepwalking." Fez indicated the bandage wrapped around his left arm. "I always do that after being injured."

"Yeah, and I'm his bodyguard, and I followed him," Kelso said. "You're not suppose to wake a sleepwalking man, but I also have an oath to protect Jackie and Hyde here, so I had to bring them along."

The Red Caps bowed their heads and didn't press the issue. "Allow us to escort you back to the royal wing," they said.

They couldn't have been older than twelve, and Fez and Kelso were taking advantage of their inexperience and naiveté. Hyde didn't like messing with little kids' heads, but bamboozling the Red Caps was necessary. Penny's mirror-theft required it, but the situation wedged itself in Hyde's conscience—and made him doubly eager to get the hell out of this kingdom.

"Hey, our legs are pretty sore," he said to the Red Caps, "any chance you could _carry_ us back to the royal wing?"

The Red Caps giggled, but he was only half-joking.


	60. When Love Is Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. "She's the One" copyright 2005 Warner Bros. Records.

CHAPTER 60  
 **WHEN LOVE IS PAIN**  


Eric was surrounded by the people he loved. They stood in a ring around him, the only bright spots in an otherwise dark and cracked wasteland. One-by-one, they would have to go, and he chose Hyde first. He planted a hand on Hyde's chest—a strong shield protecting a vulnerable heart—and dug his fingers into it. He broke through Hyde's skin and cracked his ribs, and he tore Hyde's beating organ from its home. Then, like the wolf he was, he tore into Hyde's heart with his teeth and devoured it.

Hyde's body turned to ash, but Eric had already moved on to Laurie. He knocked her to the dry, cracked ground with his fist. She tried to scream, but he pounced on her and held her nose; and he shoveled dirt into her mouth until she suffocated, killed by him a second time.

Laurie's body became ash like Hyde's, but Eric had no more thought for her. Kelso was next, and Eric's eyes set him on fire. Kelso's flesh blazed orange in the starless night, and Kelso screamed until all his soft tissues turned to smoke and rose over his blackened skeleton.

The skeleton disintegrated to powder, but Eric's focus went to Fez. He beat Fez's skull to a bloody pulp; then he sliced Jackie's head off with his pocket knife. Penny, however, he didn't touch. The earth opened beneath her feet and entombed her. Such were the fates of his loved ones until all but his parents and Donna were left standing.

Red suffered a most appropriate death. Eric shoved Red's own foot up Red's ass, leaving only two people to deal with.

Kitty and Donna clung to each other in the dark. He approached them, but the fear in their eyes made him pause. What was he doing? What had he _done?_ His burning heart urged him forward. It wanted him to dig at his mother's face until it ran red with blood. To ease his fingers over Donna's lovely, creamy neck and squeeze until the life drained from her body...

Instead, he clawed at his own chest and broke it open. His heart wasn't inside, beating white-hot as he expected. Jackie and Hyde's cursed ring had taken its place, scorching the air behind his ribs.

"Eric," Donna said. She stepped forward in the dark, reached for the ring in his chest—

And he awoke in Penny's castle, in the bed he shared with Donna. Sweat drenched his skin, and he clutched the ring dangling over his heart.

"Bad dream?" Donna said. She was sitting beside him and stroking slick forehead.

"Yeah." He couldn't remember any details, only the searing hatred at the center of his chest. It hadn't gone anywhere. He pulled the ring's chain over his head and tossed it across the dawn-lit room. He needed a break.

Donna stared at where the ring landed on the divan. Then she pecked his lips softly. "I wish I could carry it for you."

"No, Donna, you don't. Believe me."

He slid out of bed. They'd need a change of sheets. His sweat had left a damp spot in the shape of his back, but he was feeling much better with the ring off him. His stomach started to rumble. A bath would've been nice, but the scent of pork sausage overrode that thought—and any other. Someone was outside the suite and bringing breakfast.

Eric flung open the door. Wolf was standing in the hall with a silver trolly.

"Room service?" Eric said. They hadn't seen Wolf since he brought them to the castle four days ago.

"Eric," Donna whispered—and joined him with the quilt wrapped around her mostly naked body, "at least put on some pants."

He glanced down at himself. He had on only his underwear and went to the dresser.

"We have much to do and little time to do it," Wolf said and wheeled the trolly inside the suite.

Donna shut the door behind him. "What do you mean?"

Eric eyed the trolly as he put on his pants. He was so hungry that it leeched his concentration, but the cloches on the trolly remained covered as Wolf explained himself.

"Penny gave me the task of guiding you through talking with the northern wolf packs. Her discussions with you yesterday made her think twice about sending you out alone."

"So you're going to the villages with us?" Donna said. She sounded relieved.

Wolf scratched his temple. "Not inside. We have—"

"Sorry to interrupt," Eric said, "but could you let us have breakfast already?"

"Oh. Certainly." Wolf lifted the cloche covers. A glorious pile of pork sausage lay beneath one, and scrambled eggs lay beneath the other.

Eric needed all his self-control not to dive into the sausages. He served Donna first since she couldn't do it herself while holding onto the quilt. "Is that enough?" he said after fixing her plate.

She chuckled. "You can have the rest of the sausages. Don't worry." Then she sat at the desk with her plate and a glass of pulpy orange juice.

Eric plunked down on the bed with the tray of sausages and began to stuff his face. "Yoo mam mamy?" he said to Wolf, meaning: _You want any?_

"No," Wolf said, "I gorged myself earlier. A wolf has to keep himself well-fed and satisfied before the full moon. Otherwise, he can become very destructive."

"The full moon," Donna said. "That's, like, only a few days away."

Wolf nodded. "We have two nights before the wild moon calls us. Two nights before the wolf packs will be at their most dangerous. They are planning to surge north and take this castle. They want Queen Riding Hood."

"Pemy?" Eric chewed the sausage in his mouth and swallowed. "Penny? They're going to kill her?"

"That is Grayhead's plan, yes," Wolf said.

"We can't let that happen." Eric quickened his eating pace, and once breakfast was finished, he and Donna got fully dressed—in private. Then Wolf gave them some instruction.

"Donna, as you visit the villages, you must concentrate on the love you feel for Eric," he said. "You will give off a special scent they will pick up, and it will make them trust you more." A Red Cap's scarlet cloak was folded on the trolly's lower shelf, and he handed it to her. "You also must wear this with the hood off your face at all times. If your face is concealed, they will take it as a sign of hostility."

"All right," Donna said, "but can I bring anything with me, like a knife or Wolfsbane, in case they—"

"No. You will be searched every time you enter a village. Eric, however—as a fellow wolf—won't be, and I very much recommend he bring Wolfsbane if things don't go your way."

"But won't they smell it on me?" Eric said.

"Not with this applied to it." Wolf produced a small pouch from his long coat. He opened the pouch, and inside was some kind of plant ground into powder. "Fairywing. It's a an herb. Only the leaves are used to make this."

Eric took the pouch from him and sniffed it. The powder smelled like nothing. "Is that how you hide your own scent, to keep wolves from realizing you're Grayhead's son?"

Wolf swiped his temple, once, twice, three times, as if he he were uncomfortable with Eric knowing his paternity. "Yes. A little of that goes a long way. Just sprinkle a pinch over your Wolfsbane pellets and shake it all together."

"I'm going to do this in the bathroom," Eric said. "I don't want to spill it everywhere."

He brought the Fairywing, his leather gloves, and two pouches of Wolfsbane into the bathroom and locked the door. What he really needed was privacy. Days ago, Penny had given him a pouch of the death-inducing Wolfsbane he'd asked for. Neither Donna nor Wolf would approve of him bringing it with them to the wolf villages. Donna didn't even know he had it.

He sat on the lip of the porcelain tub and put on his leather gloves. He dropped a pinch of the Fairywing powder into the pouch of the blue, _paralysis_ -inducing Wolfsbane and shook it up. Then, very carefully, he added two pinches of Fairywing to the fatal indigo Wolfsbane. The pellets' pungent odor brought tears to his eyes until he closed up the pouch. He shook it up, too, coating the pellets with Fairywing until he could no longer smell them.

He returned to the bedroom, and Wolf gave him a duster coat like his own to wear. Eric hid the Wolfsbane pouches safely in the coat's inner pockets. He also put the cursed ring back around his neck. Searing hate reestablished itself over his heart, but it wasn't his. He had to remember that: _the hatred wasn't his._

He and Donna didn't wake their friends to say goodbye. Instead, they slid coded notes beneath their friends' suite doors. Then, with Wolf, they went quietly from the castle.

Three saddled-up horses waited for them by the towering, iron gates outside. Penny's gray-haired attendants had the horse's reins in hand, but one of the horses seemed antsy and kept stamping its hooves.

"You two know how to ride, I hope," Wolf said.

"I do," Donna said. "Eric, not so much."

The attendants passed the horses off to Eric, Donna, and Wolf and bid them a good journey. Eric, of course, had received the hoof-stamper, but Wolf exchanged reins with him.

"This one should be more docile," Wolf said. "She'll follow behind the other two, and you won't have to do much work."

Eric swallowed nervously. "Okay."

"You'll do fine, Eric." Donna slung an arm around his shoulders in a sideways hug. Then she gave him gave a fast, verbal lesson on how to make a horse move and stop. "And when it gallops, don't fall off."

"Excellent advice," Wolf said then gestured to Donna. "A boost?"

"Thank you." She grabbed onto the saddle's pommel, stepped onto one of the stirrups, and Wolf raised her high enough to swing her right leg over the horse. "Oh," she said, "the stirrups need to be lengthened."

Wolf adjusted the stirrups for her and helped Eric onto his horse afterward. Sitting in the saddle didn't feel bad. But once Wolf had mounted his own horse, and they all trotted from the castle gates, Eric wrapped his arms around the horse's neck and held on for dear life.

* * *

Hyde awoke the same way he'd fallen back asleep last night, to Jackie's "I love you." He couldn't say it back. The curse had stolen the expression from him, but it was also upping the ante; Jackie's touch had started to cause him physical pain. He'd thought little of it yesterday when the pain was only a dull ache. But now as he held her in his arms, his skin throbbed and stung, as if dozens of bees had attacked him.

Even so, he ignored the distress and focused on Jackie's face, lit up by the morning sun. He ran his fingertips along her jawline. Her skin was warm, but touching it felt like dipping his fingers into hot wax. He grunted, and she mistook the sound for disrupted speech.

"You don't have to," she said, "I _feel_ it, how much you love me."

She wasn't wrong there. He did love her, and despite the risk, he cupped the back of her head and drew her in for a kiss. Invisible needles of pain stabbed his lips and tongue, but the pleasure he found in Jackie's taste and his closeness to her counteracted it.

They were both breathless when they separated, but she recovered first. "Wow," she said.

"Yeah, even cursed, I'm a good kisser."

She smiled brightly. "You're the best cursed kisser ever." Then she kissed him again and let him experience the full depth of her mouth.

The sensation of her giving herself over to him drowned any trace of pain. A wild ecstasy spread through his body and silenced his mind. She was the only chick who'd ever done that to him, who could induce a thoughtless state of peace with only a kiss.

He gave himself over to her in return, and his arousal grew with every moist sweep of her tongue. He'd need to be inside her if they kept this up, but she pulled away and said, "Huh. I didn't feel anything."

The sun no longer brightened her features. The starlit night surrounded them instead and the rest of Inspiration Point. He'd been sent into another memory. She was sitting with him on her father's Lincoln Town Car in the middle of Mt. Hump Park. The kiss—and the shock of her response to it—had threatened to make him mute, but he pushed out a word: "Nothing?"

"No. I mean, the kiss was hot, but... well, did _you_ feel anything?"

He'd felt a shitload, and it knotted itself into a noose strangling his heart. She was the last person he was supposed feel anything for.

"Look," he said, "do you think I like hitting on my best friend's girlfriend? I don't, but look at you. I mean, _look at you._ I can't help it."

"Well, you better." Donna was standing in front of him now, not Jackie, and her cheeks were flushed with anger. The Burkharts' ski cabin had taken the place of Mt. Hump Park, and flowers of frost coated the windows.

Jackie had fled to the bedroom thanks to his insensitivity, probably to sob with her head pressed against a window's cold glass. He knew how badly that would feel. He was cold all the damn time, but Donna—her friendship and her hotness—were the only things that ever heated him up.

He grasped the sides of her face, desperate to have some of her warmth inside him, and forced his lips against her mouth. A sharp pain struck his cheek. She'd slapped him...

But the pain shifted to his feet. They were freezing in the calf-deep snow he had to trudge through. It was worth the hassle, though. Two large plastic bags of presents were in his hands. Mrs. Forman had given him a party he didn't ask for, like she'd done the last two years on his birthday. At twelve-years-old, he acted like balloons and cake and friends didn't matter, but they meant everything—the friends especially. Forman had gotten him a radio since Edna wrecked theirs, and Donna looked real nice in that shirt she wore. Her jugs were poppin', and that had made his twelfth birthday all the better.

His mood steadily darkened, however, the closer to home he got. He'd stayed at the Formans' as long as he could, well after sundown. Red offered to drive him home, but Hyde didn't want him to see his crappy house or the drunks roaming his neighborhood, especially when his mother could've been one of them.

He made it to his house after one more snow-covered block. The only thing he looked forward to in coming home was his uncle's gift. Chet always found a way to get it to him exactly on his birthday, but the truck parked in front of the porch wasn't Chet's. He drove a red 1962 Chevy pickup. This truck was a seafoam-green Ford. Someone was paying his mother a visit.

Hyde climbed the porch steps and put down his bags of presents. He was hesitant to go inside, so he opened the screen door, shoved open the front door, then reclosed the screen door to use as a shield.

"—want this, bitch!" a man shouted, and Hyde peered through the screen door's mesh. The man was a fat tub and taking Edna from behind. They were screwing on the living room floor—correction: had _finished_ screwing. The man pulled out of her, and Hyde was too stunned to move or look away.

Edna wobbled on her hands and knees as if she were wasted. Had she planned on Hyde catching her like this on his birthday? Probably, but now her concerns appeared wholly different. "Where are you going" she slurred at "Uncle" Tubbo. "I'm not done!"

Tubbo's pants were down by his ankles, and he yanked them up. "Never you mind, you freakin' whore." He tossed his shirt over his hairy shoulder, and Hyde backed up from the door as Tubbo stomped from the house.

"Outta the way, dipshit," Tubbo said, but Hyde's mind vaguely registered the next minute—Tubbo kicking Hyde's presents down the porch stairs, the Ford truck's engine growling to life, and the screech of tires on pavement.

"Asshole!" Edna shouted and crawled toward the screen door. "Didn't even finish me off." She was naked and totally smashed, but despite his revulsion, Hyde entered the house and helped her up.

"Ma—"

"Oh, hi, Steven!" She brushed a clumsy hand through his hair, and he flinched. "Get Mama to her room, would you?"

He walked her to the couch and snatched up its ratty blanket. "Could ya cover yourself first?"

"Hey! You came right out of here, you know." She tried to pull his hand down, but he withdrew it before she could. Didn't matter how drunk she was, touching her below the belt was one thing that would never happen.

"Damn it..." He shoved her onto the couch and wrapped the blanket around her like a cocoon. The fact she'd tried to bring his hand between her legs disturbed the hell out of him. Had she, in her drunken haze, thought he would finish the job Tubbo hadn't? The idea sickened him to nausea, and his skin felt tight, like it wanted to retreat within his bones, but he relaxed once he got her body completely covered.

Another birthday, another nightmare, but he said, "Why'd you let that prick in here anyway?" and half-dragged, half-carried her to her bedroom.

"Don't get self-righteous with me, Steven! Do you have any idea what day this is?" Her bleary eyes looked at him expectantly, and he suppressed a groan. He knew where this speech was going. "It's the twelfth anniversary of the day my life ended," she said, "so excuse me for trying to wring a little joy out of it—" she angled her head toward the bedroom window, " _which the bastard didn't even give me!_ "

Hyde kicked an empty vodka bottle out of the way and deposited Edna onto her bed. His ability to distance himself emotionally from her had grown, but anger remained in voice. "Why'd ya let him talk to you like that, Ma? I mean, you were doin' him a favor."

"Men are like dogs, baby. All they want is a willing bitch to hump and bark at..." She grabbed a fresh bottle of vodka from the sheets of her bed, "but you'll learn that soon enough. You're gonna be a man yourself in a few years, and you'll be the same as the guy who fucked me and left." She raised the bottle at him and smirked. "Happy birthday."

"Whatever." He turned away, intending to leave, but he spotted a brown-wrapped package on her dresser. He picked the package up. It was about a foot wide and soft—and addressed to him from Uncle Chet. Edna was trying to hide it, probably would've chucked it in the trash. He stuffed the package under his arm and escaped into the living room. Then he shut her door and hoped she was too drunk to chase after him.

He opened the package, and inside the brown paper was a black Led Zeppelin T-shirt, one from the band's North American tour last year. Hyde had wanted to see them in Milwaukee so damn bad. Chet had offered to take him, but Edna freaked, so Chet backed off. The shirt, though, made up for that a little.

Hyde was already wearing a sweater, but he pulled on the Zeppelin shirt over it. The shirt was huge, man. He'd have to grow into it, but he didn't mind. He liked presents that had longevity—

_Presents._

"Shit."He rushed back outside. His birthday presents were scattered on the porch steps. Tubbo had knocked them all over the place. Hyde gathered them up, starting with the radio Forman got him, and he made a promise to himself—that any chick he nailed would get off. She wouldn't feel like garbage, either. Even his mother deserved that much.

He continued to collect his presents, but they soon disappeared from his arms, replaced by Jackie and a surprising amount of pain. His awareness had returned to the present, to Penny's castle. He tried to focus on his surroundings, on the rustic wood beams and animal-skin rugs of his suite, but fear hijacked his thoughts. The curse had just sent him through another series of memories. What had it stolen from him now?

"Puddin'?" Jackie said, and he kissed her with renewed but tender vigor—at least, he _hoped_ it was tender. The nerves in his lips screamed at the contact, as if her mouth were made of broken glass, but he didn't withdraw. Not until he'd elicited a quiet moan from her.

"How was that?" he said.

"What?" Her eyes were glazed over with what looked like delight, but he had to be sure.

"The kiss... how'd it feel? Too rough?"

"No, it was amazing," she said, "like always."

"That one's mine," he said and laughed from relief. "Jackie, I'm not like him, man."

"Not like wh—wait, you just said my name again."

_Holy hell,_ so he had, and her touch no longer caused him pain.

He fell silent as a theory formed in his skull. The curse had screwed up by making him relive those particular memories. They'd only confirmed he wasn't a woman-using asshole. As a kid, selfishness had grown like weeds inside him, but his experience with Donna mowed them down. Gentleness and generosity were his all along.

"Jackie," he said, and he said it again, having missed the feel of her name on his tongue, "I don't know how much time I got here so just listen, okay? The curse is fucking with my head. Every damn time I feel good about something, it makes me feel something ba—" his voice caught, "b—fuck!"

"It makes you feel something bad?" she said, but he couldn't even nod. "It's making you remember horrible things that happened. That's it, isn't it? And then it doesn't let you talk about any of it, and... are you—are you losing the things you've gotten from my love?"

He closed his eyes. She was right on the money.

"But it's still in you," she said. "You just can't act on it." Then she cupped the nape of his neck, searing his skin with burning pain, and her fingertips twisted in his curls. "You must feel horrible—"

_Right on the money again,_ but she had no clue just what kind of horrible he felt. And if he had his way, she never would.

* * *

Eric managed to straighten up in his saddle as he got used to his horse's gate, and Donna's tip to lean forward during a gallop kept him from breaking his neck. They were in the thick of the forest now. The canopy overhead let in half the daylight. Wolf had led them to the valleys below Needles—and to the first of five wolf villages they had to visit. A tunnel of tree roots was the only way inside. Wolf couldn't follow, but he'd be waiting for them in the forest.

They dismounted from their horses, and Donna squeezed Eric's hand before they crawled into the underground opening. Her trust in him meant everything, and he was somewhat awestruck he had it. But it also served as a haven against the cursed ring's baleful presence.

The tunnel's dirt and roots tickled his nose. His debate-team skills would probably have to work overtime with the wolves he already smelled. Their scents were all over the tunnel. They weren't particularly fresh, though. With the unrest developing among the wolf packs, Red Caps were out in the forest full-force. Maybe these wolves were wary of confronting them.

The tunnel opened out into what could only be described as the wolf version of Point Place. Brick houses lined streets of hard-packed earth. Fathers were outside playing with their children, darting through trees and climbing up them. A wolf boy, no older than six, fell off a moderately high branch, and the landing knocked the air from his lungs. His father—Eric assumed it was his father—shinnied down the tree in a blur. He rushed to his son's side and cradled his head, and he told his son to let the air come back.

The boy calmed down and began to breathe again, and his father brushed the boy's temple with two fingers. But afterward, when the boy was on his feet, he jabbed at his father's chest playfully. They began to wrestle in the dirt, and Eric remembered a similar match between himself and Red. They were wrestling in their living room and laughing. By the end of it, Red pulled Eric into a warm embrace, and Eric knew that his dad loved him.

Just like this boy must have known his own father loved him. They were rolling in the dirt and growling at each other. But once they were done, the father lifted his son onto his shoulders proudly. They loped among the trees with the boy giggling happily, and Eric couldn't imagine that wolf father doing what Grayhead had done to Ullock—making him taste a dying, eviscerated man's blood.

"Eric," Donna said beside him, "are you ready? We have to find someone to talk to."

"Yeah. Yeah, let's go." Eric had been watching the wolves from a decent distance away. His wolf-enhanced sight was far sharper than Donna's, and he grasped her hand as they walked to the heart of the village.

They reached a row of brick houses with several fathers and their children outside. The wolves' noses sniffed the air—sniffed Eric and Donna's scents—before an adult wolf with dark brown hair approached them. "Hello," the wolf said. "You're not from this village. What's your business here?"

"To talk," Eric said. "Just to talk."

The wolf glanced back at his two young children, who'd stayed with the other fathers. The boy and girl both had red hair. Then he said to Donna, "Let me smell your cloak."

"All right." Donna assumed a relaxed stance, as Wolf had showed her, and this brown-haired wolf swept his nose along the folds of her scarlet cloak. Eric kept on guard through scent. The second that wolf's smell turned aggressive, he'd get a Wolfsbane pellet to the face.

But the wolf pulled away from Donna without incident and said to Eric, "You are part of the movement."

"Yes, but not under Grayhead," Eric said and chose his next words carefully. This wolf clearly didn't know Eric was Penny's—Queen Riding Hood's—cousin. "We should have the same rights that humans do in this kingdom, but the way the packs are being led is wrong."

The wolf ran a hand through his hair, and a small growl rumbled in his throat. "There have been rumors that a wolf would slink into the villages, one wearing sheep's clothing to splinter our unity. I do not agree with all of Grayhead's methods," his brown eyes flared orange, "but he is not a wolf loyal to the wrong cause."

"Neither are we," Donna blurted. "I mean _Eric_ isn't—"

"Eric?" The wolf didn't smile, and his scent grew decidedly more hostile. "Eric _Forman?_ "

"Um... yes," Eric said. Donna's susceptibility to being hypnotized was not an asset.

"Kin to Queen Riding Hood," the wolf said.

"Yes, and loyal to King Fez of the Fourth Kingdom," Eric said.

The wolf nodded and scratched his temple several times. "I see, I see." His scent lost its aggression, a relief because Eric's need to growl had been building. "It is brave of you to travel Red Riding Hood Forest with your beloved. I am Randulf. What village do you hail from?"

"Point Place."

"In the Second Kingdom?"

"No," Eric said.

"I've heard tales of wolf villages spread throughout the Nine Kingdoms," Randulf said, "but if Queen Riding Hood has her way, wolves will be burned out of everywhere."

Eric shook his head. "That might have been true of her mother—of Queen Riding Hood the Second—but Penny, Queen Riding Hood the Third—"

"Killed Gretel," Randulf growled, and Eric looked toward the sky. Bright bits of blue shone through the leaves in the dense canopy. Sometimes people—man or wolf—would believe only what they wanted to believe, no matter the evidence. Eric hoped Randulf wasn't one of them.

"She wishes to drive wolves from the Second Kingdom entirely," Randulf continued with a snarl. "Her mother killed the mothers of us all! Our sisters, our, grandmothers, our daughters! She sent in Red Caps with their torches. They burned our straw houses to the ground with our women inside."

Donna's breath caught. "Oh, my God—"

"And your dear kin, Eric Forman," Randulf swiped his fingers across Eric's temple, "wants to keep us from rebuilding ourselves, from finding mates, from having _love._ Her laws—and the Red Caps dedicated to enforcing them—compel us to remain underground. Queen Gretel was the wolves' only true protection in the Second Kingdom. She allowed us to roam freely outside our villages, to fall in love with her human citizens, and Queen Riding Hood has murdered her!"

"What if she didn't?" Eric said. "What if Grayhead was responsible, in order to unite the packs and come into power—"

Randulf laughed. "Grayhead? Murder our only hope for peace? A pathetic theory with no proof."

"But there _is_ proof," Donna said.

"Where?" Randulf sniffed toward her.

She clenched her fists then cracked her knuckles and appeared overall uncomfortable. "We just don't have it yet."

Eric put his arm around her red-cloaked shoulders. "We know Grayhead killed Queen Riding Hood the Second."

"That is common knowledge," Randulf said, "He saved the rest of us from her fire."

"For revenge," Eric said, "and the trophy he tried to take from her body sits deep in Queen Riding Hood's castle. His scent is all over it."

"Trophy?" Randulf circled Eric and Donna, not threateningly but as if deep in thought. He rubbed his stubbly chin. "It is an ancient, barbaric practice. "

"Yeah, well, Grayhead seems to like ancient, barbaric practices," Eric said. "If the Red Caps hadn't recovered it, the ear of Queen Riding Hood the Second would be hanging off his belt. Just as, we think, Gretel's ear is stashed somewhere on his body."

"A good portion of Red Caps have gone rogue," Donna added. "They're working with his pack. That's why Gretel's body was covered in pinpricks. They've gone beyond being part of a movement for equality. They're conspiring together to give Grayhead—not wolves—control of the Second Kingdom."

Randulf grew silent and continued to rub his chin. Then, after a very long minute, he said, "You must speak to Vuk."

Vuk, apparently, was the leader of the oldest, largest pack in the village. Eric and Donna followed Randulf past many brick houses into a small hunting park full of rabbits, wild chickens, and other small game. A white-haired wolf with bright eyes was tracking a fox hidden in the bushes.

"Vuk," Randulf said, and Vuk shushed him, but the damage had been done. The bushes rustled, and the fox sped off.

Vuk turned around. "Huff-puff! I wanted to show my grandchildren the old man still has it."

"Oh, we all know you do," Randulf said. "We very much enjoyed our chicken dinners the other night."

"And who are these..." Vuk sniffed the air in front of Eric and Donna; then he growled. "Red Riding Hood's kin." But Randulff explained their loyalty and their cause, and Vuk's demeanor became—if not friendly—more docile. "So, do you have plans of gaining this proof of Grayhead's guilt? Because that is the only way any wolf pack will believe you. We are visceral creatures, pup." Vuk swiped Eric's temple, and Eric fought not to flinch. It was like having his cheeks pinched by his Grandma Bea. "We rely on what our senses tell us, not words. Gretel's body smelled like Red Caps, not like Grayhead."

Eric did flinch that time. The wolves' distrust of his family started with fire, and that distrust had been stoked into an all-consuming blaze by Grayhead's secret and violent act against his own people.

"Do not look so surprised," Vuk said. "We found her first. My village prefers diplomacy. If there were any roads other than war, we would take them, but Queen Riding Hood threatens our families. We must defend ourselves." He gestured to the trees surrounding the village and frowned. "I suggest, Eric Forman, that you and your beloved return to Point Place. If you stay in the Second Kingdom, it may be your own blood that spills."

* * *

Kelso entered the castle's rustic dining room for lunch and sang that Ramones song to himself: " _She's the one. She's the one. She's the one._ " It was so damn catchy and reminded him of Brooke. He couldn't help himself. His search for the mirror early, early, _early_ this morning had made him mentally tired, shortening his attention span more than usual. He sat down at the table, and a gray-haired attendant served him a meal of chicken salad and tomato basil soup. He dug in but didn't stop humming.

"Kelso, man, knock it off," Hyde said, and Kelso noticed his company for the first time. Hyde, along with Jackie, Fez, and Rhonda, had been in the dining room all along, and once the attendant left, they started talking as if their conversation hadn't been disrupted.

"You think Averill's spirit is sharing Grandma Forman's rotting body?" Jackie said, and it seemed to be important, but the song had commandeered half of Kelso's thoughts. The slurps Rhonda added as she ate soup didn't help. They stood in for drums.

"Yes," Fez said. "All that is left of Penny's mother is her ear. If she feels her work is unfinished, she would have found a way to finish it. Removing all love from the Nine Kingdoms is a near-impossible task. She must have recruited Bernice's soul to help, and Bernice—driven by hatred herself—found two perfect people to carry out her daughter's wishes."

Jackie gestured to Hyde and herself. "Us."

Hyde grunted as if he wanted to say something, and Kelso added it to the song inside his head, standing in for Dee Dee Ramone's bass.

"But Bernice had to leave Averill here to save Eric's dad," Rhonda said. "Maybe helping her daughter curse you two was Bernice's way of making up for it."

Hyde grunted heavily, and Jackie gasped. "Eric's grandmother cursed us out of hatred for my Puddin' but also out of love for her daughter?"

"And that may be a key to breaking the curse," Fez said. Then he looked to Kelso. "We must continue our search for the mirror, my friend," but his words turned into, " _You know she makes my life complete..._ "

"Sorry," Kelso stood from the table, "I gotta go."

Jackie called after him, but the music was calling him louder. He bolted from the dining room and down several long hallways until he reached Penny's war room. Three Red Caps ushered him inside and closed the door behind him. The song had become impossibly loud in his mind, and it seemed to grow louder with every pump of his heart.

"Kelso, welcome." Penny was standing at the back of the room, by the map of the Second Kingdom. She beckoned him to her, and he could do nothing but obey. On the map, brown pushpins had all but taken over the southern half of the kingdom. Red pushpins, too, were scattered throughout. "As you can see," she said, "the wolves are beating back Miss Muffet's troops in Gingerbread Town. From there, they will go on to Moonlight City... and then to my half of the kingdom."

She placed a hand within the folds of her scarlet cloak, "It is time for you to help me, as you said you would," and pulled out the heartstone. Purple flames burst at its center then vanished.

" _Know I'll never find a girl like you,_ " Kelso sang with the stone, " _but in my heart, I'll always be true._ "

Penny put an arm around his shoulders and guided him to one of the walls covered in scarlet fabric. She lifted the corner of the cloth from the floor, and Kelso's own reflection stared back at him.

* * *

Eric, Donna, and Wolf had built a cooking fire somewhere between villages two and three on their itinerary. The sentiment of the second village was the same as in the first. They didn't want war, and they didn't trust Grayhead completely, but they felt they had no choice thanks to Queen Gretel's death.

"We have to get that ear off Grayhead," Donna said. A pan was over the fire, and she dropped bacon into it. Seconds later, Eric and Wolf snatched several strips off the flames, and she gave them both a look.

"Meat's best rare, Donna," Eric said and popped a strip into his mouth. "Retains the flavor. Anyway, I was thinking about Charlotta and the Red Caps working with Grayhead's pack. They're really mistaken if they believe Grayhead'll treat them well after the war. He hates humankind. No way is he going to let them live freely with their wolfy beloveds... if at all."

"Wolves can be very convincing," Wolf said, "especially if they're convincing people of the thing they want the most." He bit into a strip of bacon and glanced at Eric sideways. "Your cousin is very good at that, too."

Anger surged into Eric's blood, mixing with the ring's hated over his chest, but Donna spoke before he could defend himself. "He's not falling for anything. He has no intentions of ruling the southern kingdom—or in handing it over to her if the wolves back down. His heart is a lot stronger than that manipulative sk—woman."

Eric clutched Donna's knee. The anger flowing through him dissolved, and his lady had astonished him once again. Not only did she trust him, she _believed_ in him.

* * *

Hyde and Jackie were walking the castle grounds together, hand-in-hand, through a garden of flora from all over the Nine Kingdoms. His hand holding hers felt like it had been sunburned—and it was only getting worse—but he wouldn't let go. She was working out more details of the curse without his help. He had plenty of his own ideas, but she was coming up with the same ones, and he wouldn't ruin her concentration by breaking physical contact.

"According to Fez," she said, "Kelso is right about corpses. They can't work magic on their own. Penny's mother and Eric's grandmother have to be working through someone else, someone living, but who?"

Hyde knew, but only grunts left him when he tried to speak. It was Penny, man. She was at Fez's award ceremony when Fez gave Hyde the ring, and those two nutbag spirits must have possessed her before Hyde put the ring on Jackie's finger.

Penny!" Jackie shouted, and he clapped a hand over her mouth The contact felt like pressing his palm into a bed of nails, but Gray-haired gardeners were tending the flower bushes. Better to be safe than sorry, even though Hyde and Jackie were steering clear of them. "That shiny blonde skank..." she whispered through his fingers. "She's the one. She has to be. Ooh, I always hated her."

He grunted a caveat, wishing Jackie could hear his thoughts. Penny probably wasn't aware of everything she was doing. He'd had plenty of time with Laurie when Snow White's stepmother possessed her, and she was barely herself. He couldn't—and _didn't_ —blame Laurie for offing Fez's parents. The plain and simple fact was that _she_ hadn't done it. Her body had been used. If Penny was under the same kind of malevolent influence, he couldn't blame her either. Especially if she had _two_ evil crazies crawling inside her head.

"Why hasn't Penny killed us?" Jackie said, but she answered her own question. "Because it isn't the point. She wants to make us stop loving each other. If she kills us, we'll have died in our love. Oh, but she could throw is in the dungeon to keep us from leaving... Then again, where would we go? We're already imprisoned by the curse."

_Damn,_ Hyde loved how her mind worked. He stopped her for a moment and braced himself. Then he kissed her forehead. Her skin cut his lips with hot knives of pain, but he withstood it.

"Baby," she tugged on the hem of his shirt, "we have to tell Fez."

They returned to the castle. An attendant in the great hall told them she last saw Fez with Rhonda, and they were headed for the royal wing. Hyde and Jackie made their way up there, but outside Fez's suite they heard crying.

"Fez and Rhonda must've finally done it," Hyde said. "That's either Rhonda crying at how bad it was—or Fez crying out of the 'beauty' of the moment."

"I don't care. Our lives are at stake." Jackie raised a fist to the door, but Hyde grasped her wrist and withstood the curse's bites into his fingers.

"Fez knowing—" That was as far as his words would go. He'd wanted to say, _Fez knowing about who worked the curse can wait._ But he pulled her toward their suite instead, and she gave in.

He lay down on the bed once they were inside their room. He needed a few minutes to recover from touching her, to let the pain recede. But Jackie was pacing like he had two days before, back and forth, back and forth, obsessively.

"I can't just sit here," she said. "We have to get Penny to confess, to tell us how to break the curse. Fez can do that. He has a whole army..."

Hyde grunted. Penny probably didn't know how to break it.

Jackie stopped pacing and sat on the bed next to him. "If Fez won't do it, I'll rip out all his eyelashes—then hers. We can't stay in this castle anymore, not with the person—with the _people_ who cursed us. No wonder the curse is working so fast on you." She smoothed a hand over his stomach, and he sucked in a sharp breath. He hadn't expected her to touch him, and his muscles were cramping. Even through his damn shirt, contact with her caused him pain.

He tried to relax, but his breathing wouldn't cooperate. He covered it with a bout of fake grunting.

"Don't," she said and removed her hand from him. "I'm doing fine on my own, aren't I? Figuring everything out?"

"Sure are," he said, surprised he could say it all, but he wanted— _needed—_ to change the subject. She was growing increasingly upset. She was shaking, and her eyes were brimming with unshed tears. "How do you think Forman's doing out there?"

"I don't know, but he better not let any of those wolves touch the ring."

"He won't. Forman may be soft, but he's not easily manipulated, not like Kelso."

"Oh, God—Michael! Where do you think he ran off to?" Her first tears started to fall. The terror she must have felt passed into Hyde and sped up his pulse, and he wanted to rescue her from it.

He sat up and pushed her hair from her neck. "Wherever it was," he said and laid a thick kiss on her hot, pain-inducing skin, "Kelso'll be back."

She didn't object, to his words or his touch. Her hands slipped beneath his shirt. They caressed his chest and left streaks of fire in their wake. Eventually, when they were both naked and ready, he carried her to the dresser and had her sit on it.

Her legs wrapped around his hips as he entered her, and he gripped her bare back to keep from screaming. Except for once, he'd never experienced so much physical pain. His eyes were watering from it, and as she hugged him closer to her body, he let out a groan. Impossible to swallow it down.

"Baby," she whispered. "Baby, I need you..."

He hadn't started moving yet, but he did so now, harder and faster than he normally would have. She puffed out short, happy pants as he thrust between her thighs. Her cheek pressed into his intimately, something he always loved, but her breath burned like acid on his ear. She didn't seem to notice the tears seeping from his eyes or that he clutched her back strong enough to leave bruises. Deep groans issued from him uncontrollably, as if his flesh and muscle were being chewed up by wolves—because that was exactly how making love to Jackie felt, man. Like he was being ripped apart.

She climaxed sooner than usual, and he bit down a relieved, "Thank-freakin'-God," in his throat. His hard-on had been on its way down anyway, and he wouldn't have lasted much longer. He pulled out of her and backed off so that no part of her touched any part of him. The pain ebbed immediately, and he collapsed onto the bed, exhausted.

"Puddin', you're not even going to carry me off the dresser?" Jackie said.

"C—can't," he huffed. His heart was pounding, and his fingers twitched with his pulse. His body was soaked with sweat. He'd wanted to kiss her after she came, like he always did, but his usual just wasn't happening.

She hopped off the dresser. "I took that much out of you?"

"We're... we're really good at fucking. What can I say?"

"You were so loud. Eric and Donna probably heard it in the forest." She giggled and lay down beside him on the bed. He rolled away from her and onto his side, a reflexive move to protect himself. But he flattened himself on his back again once he realized what he'd done.

Too late. She'd noticed.

"Ste—Baby?" She scratched her fingertips along his damp sideburn, and he winched. Her nails might as well have been railroad spikes. No more defenses left, man. Sex with her had left him weak as a dying mutt. He couldn't even take the condom off himself—not that he'd come into it—and when she finally quit touching him, he fell into a heavy, death-like sleep.

* * *

As gross as used condoms were—even Steven's—Jackie had to look inside. He was sleeping, and she easily slipped the condom off his body, but it was empty like she'd suspected. He hadn't come. But he'd vocalized his pleasure so forcefully, almost as if he were in pain. But pleasure could sound like that sometimes, couldn't it?

She raced into the bathroom and rid herself of the condom, and she washed up. Then she pulled a spare blanket from the bedroom closet and covered Steven's dozing, naked body with it. He wasn't going anywhere, but she was. She got dressed and wrote him a note in code to let him know where she was off to.

She went down the three flights of stairs to the recreational basement Penny had set up for them. The thread to open the heartstone cubby was twisted around Jackie's finger, but she didn't need to use it. The cubby wasn't fully closed. Someone had already opened it and hadn't closed it properly. Probably Michael, but the heartstone was inside, already singing to her.


	61. Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. "Disillusion" (C) 2008 Polar Music International AB "Bad Blood" (P) 2007 Razor & Tie

CHAPTER 61  
 **GONE**  


Jackie had the heartstone in her hands, and she gazed into its fiery center. ABBA's "Disillusion" flowed from the stone into her veins. The song saturated her awareness, and the gray-brick walls of the castle disappeared around her—only to be replaced by the gray-brick walls of her suite upstairs. She and Steven were on their bed, laughing. Her fingers dug deeply into his hair and frizzed up his curls, and he retaliated by clipping her own hair with barrettes, like a hopped-up stylist.

That moment had happened just a few days ago. She'd felt happy and safe then, as if they weren't cursed, and she felt safe now in the memory—until she began to sing.

" _Changing, moving in a circle,_ " she sang to Steven and added his name to the lyrics."Steven, _I can see your face in all my dreams._ " She shoved him down onto the bed and straddled his waist. Then she fluffed his hair every which way as her dulcet but unsuitable voice belted out ABBA. " _Smiling, laughing from the shadows,_ Steven. _When I hear your voice, I know what it means."_

"I know what it means, too," he said and clipped a lock of her hair across her forehead, "that we're not doing ABBA on the road."

" _I know it doesn't matter just how hard I try,_ " she sang defiantly, but Steven had disappeared from between her thighs. Michael was between them now, and she was flat on her back. The gray bricks of Penny castle had turned pink—the walls of her childhood bedroom. The color gave her no comfort, though, as Michael shoved himself into her. She'd wanted so desperately what Donna had with Eric, to be held by the man she loved without him pestering her for sex. Her parents were out of town. Tonight could've been the perfect opportunity, but disillusion was all Michael left for her in the bed.

She escaped to the bathroom once he was finished. At least he'd taken only two minutes, but those 120 seconds were unsatisfactory in too many ways. She leaned against the tiled wall and slid down to the floor, clutched her knees to her chest and buried her face in them. She couldn't stop herself from crying out loud, but her mother's voice cut through her tears.

"Honey, you have a lot of presents to open. Don't you want to come downstairs?"

Jackie peered up. She was back in her room. "Happy Birthday!" balloons floated against her ceiling, and her mother, Pam, seemed to be waiting expectantly.

"He's not here," Jackie said. "I thought I saw his face somewhere in the crowd."

"Your father's very sorry he couldn't make it to your party," Pam said, "but he's working hard so he can pay for it."

Jackie stamped her foot on her pink rug. "It's the third one he's missed! I'm in the double digits, mom! That's a milestone. How can he not be here?"

Pam stroked Jackie's cheek tenderly with the back of her hand. "You're such a precocious girl. Ten-years-old _is_ a milestone, and you have so many fabulous gifts just begging to be unwrapped. I know for a fact your father bought you something shiny."

"Shiny?" Jackie gasped. "Oh, my God—he got me the gold charm bracelet!" She dashed from her room and tried to race down the stairs, but some unseen force was holding her back.

"Sunlight. Sunlight, come on..." Steven's voice yanked her out of the heartstone and into Penny's castle. He was standing in front of her, and he took the heartstone from her hands. It had gone dull, losing all its inner light. "What the hell were you doing?" He shoved the stone into its cubby and shut the cubby's door. "Why'd you—"

"You!" She stabbed a finger at him. "Why haven't you bought me a house?"

"What?"

"Your dad is rich! He could afford to get us a mansion, but you have to be cheap and full of stupid 'won't-take-my-daddy's-money' morals. You know, if you really loved me, you wouldn't make me live in that cramped apartment." Her arms dropped heavily to her sides, and her fists clenched. "God! I'm just so sick of having expectation after expectation broken by you... I mean, do you even know how to love?"

Steven stepped back. Hurt registered sharply in his eyes, but he remained quiet.

She clamped a hand over her mouth. "Oh, my God..." _What had she done?_ "Puddin', I'm so sorry. That wasn't... that wasn't about you."

"Who was it about?" he said softly.

"Two, not one," she said, deliberately echoing Miss Muffet's words about the curse. "I think I just went through what _you're_ going through. I had a nice memory about us then two really bad ones about Michael and my dad."

Steven grunted as she gave him the details, and he grunted some more.

"Oh, it must be awful, having to relive all those things." She slid her palms gently over his cheeks. "I was hoping the heartstone could tell me what's so curseable about us..." Her thumbs caressed his ears, but he jerked away from her hands. "Did that—did that hurt?" She looked down at her hands, and her breath grew short. "Baby... does it hurt when I touch you?"

He didn't answer, probably didn't want to, and she cupped the side of his neck. He winced but didn't move away. She kept her hand on him, and after thirty seconds or so, his face grew frighteningly red. The beginnings of tears rose in his eyes... They had to be from pain.

She withdrew her hand, horrified, and he let out a heaving breath. He must have been holding back a scream, and now she held back her own. The curse had stolen something precious from them. They could no longer touch each other.

* * *

Miss Muffet's attercop scourge lay over Fez's knees. Its silver handle gleamed in the sconce light, and he couldn't stop crying. His dear old friend and mentor was dead.

According to a message from her soldiers, the wolves had swarmed Gretel's castle in Gingerbread Town. Miss Muffet tried to defend the mausoleum, but Grayhead and the packs most loyal to him slaughtered her and most of her battalion. They stole Gretel's corpse from her coffin, and they were now carrying it with them. Her pinprick-riddled body was symbol of wolf solidarity, to inspire other villages to join their cause, to swell their ranks to an undefeatable size.

Fez gripped the attercop scourge on his lap. How he wished it could kill wolves as easily as it did spiders.

"Fezzy—" Rhonda said. She'd been with him the whole time, rubbing his back and holding him.

"He's a monster," Fez sobbed, "and I can't bring more of my army in to fight him. My people need to be protected, too."

"You should talk to the Trolls. I'm sure they would help—"

"No. I cannot take that risk."

"The Troll sovereigns aren't like their dad," Rhonda said, and Fez peered up at her. How did she know about the brutish King Relish? "You yourself pardoned them because of that very reason. You saw into their hearts, Coco Puff, and so have I. One night during the wrestling tour, we drank a lot of beanstalk ale, and they really opened up. They're grateful to you—"

"Rhonda, I can't—"

She squeezed his knee, a bit too forcefully. "You gave 'em a chance to lead their people, to better their kingdom. And you've continued to do that by letting 'em into the Candy and Pie Expo. Now they'll have more than beanstalks to eat, and they've earned some respect from the other kingdoms. Burly, Blabberwort, and Bluebell are good people. You should trust them."

Fez shut his eyes. Pushing into his mind were images of Trolls ravaging the Second Kingdom's already vulnerable towns and villages. He couldn't allow what happened to Bean Town in his own realm to happen anywhere else.

"Fez," Rhonda squeezed his knee again, and he opened his eyes, "don't you trust me?"

"I..." He looked at her through tear-blurred eyes. He did trust her, but past history was hard to ignore. The Trolls always tried to expand their borders. What would stop them this time?

"I gave you another chance," Rhonda said. "I took a big risk and jumped through that mirror after you. Because if I didn't, I woulda been wonderin' about you—about _us—_ for the rest of my life. It's a guarantee the wolves will slaughter the Second Kingdom if _you_ don't stop wondering."

Fez glided his palm over her hot, flushed cheek, and she leaned into his hand. She spoke like Miss Muffet. Rhonda had the same kind of insight, but he didn't know if he had the courage to trust it. Not against a lifetime of experience.

* * *

Eric and Donna had visited each of the five key wolf villages on their itinerary. They were now on their way back to Penny's castle with Wolf, but they'd stopped for dinner. The moon shone brightly on their woodland camp as Wolf cooked the pheasants they'd caught.

The smell of food was enticing, but Eric kept staring at the sky. The moon was so close to being full, and the conflicting emotions inside his body would soon need release. The ring hanging around his neck didn't help matters. His heart beat strongly against its malevolence, but the ring's influence was growing, like a red-hot needle sewing through his thoughts.

"There's only one way to make the wolf packs turn on Grayhead," Donna said. She had a tin cup of creek water in her hands, and she sipped it before continuing. "We have to prove to them he killed Gretel, but how are we going to do that? We can't march up to Grayhead and demand he give Gretel's ear to us."

"I will attempt to get the ear," Wolf said.

Eric stared at him. "But you're Grayhead's son. Your relationship with him—"

"Is not good, no." Wolf pulled the smallest pheasant from the fire and tore off its wing with his teeth. "I can't forgive him for his cruel ways—or for worsening wolves' reputations all over the Nine Kingdoms. Once I learned of my true parentage, I tried to impress him. I joined up with the Evil Queen, but after extensive therapy, I knew I had to part ways with my father. He didn't take that too well, and he marked me as a blood enemy."

"You can't do it, Wolf," Donna said. "He'll kill you."

Eric nodded. He could easily imagine himself in that situation—were Red the one he had to get the ear from. But Wolf's decision seemed to be made. He gobbled up his remaining pheasant. Then he swiped both Eric and Donna's temples with his fingers and mounted his horse.

"Wait," Donna stood up and grabbed his reins, "how are we supposed to get back to the castle?"

"The horses know the way," Wolf said. "Just let them have control. They'll bring you there." Donna released the reins, and Wolf wound them around his fists. "Oh, Eric, one last thing. Should anything happen to me, do not allow Penny to use this war as an excuse to expel us—the wolves—from the kingdom. If she gains the power to defeat them, do not let her forget who she is."

Wolf rode off before Eric could respond. Gain the power to defeat the wolves? What had he meant by that?

"I hope he'll be all right," Donna said. She joined Eric back by the fire and began to eat, though her thoughts were clearly elsewhere. She was nibbling at the pheasant's breast, and Eric could've snatched it from her. He'd mostly finished his, and he was still hungry. But he wasn't an animal.

"Donna, will you take bigger bites?"

"What?"

"Your little rabbit nibbles are driving me nuts."

She laughed, "Wow, it's like you have PMS," and pointed up to the moon. "Eric, you're totally getting your 'monthly visitor'."

"No, I just think people should _eat_ when they're eating, not tease their prey—I mean, their food."

Donna's laughter spilled out harder, and the sound seemed to jar her pearl-topped engagement ring to life. A mouth split across the pearl's shiny surface, and it sang, _"It could've been me, but it was you who went off and bit a little more than he could chew."_

"Is your ring trying to tell me something?" Eric said, but the song was stirring something within him.

_"The woman was born to lie,"_ the ring sang, and the voice turned into his mother's. _"Makes promises she can't keep with with the wink of an eye."_

He was zooming down Green Bay Road inside his mind—in his parents' Toyota on the day he'd spent at the hospital. The experience had traumatized him. His mother's lips, however, quirked into a smile on the drive home, and she sang, " _Bad blood is taking you for a ride. The only good thing about bad blood is letting it die._ "

"Mom, how do you do this everyday?" he said to her. "You're always running around, and people are sick and dying." But she kept on singing while the memory of his first dead body floated behind his eyes. "I mean, poor Mr. Anderson. Look, you knew this guy, Mom. How do you deal with all this?"

She turned up the radio's volume. " _Here we go now. Bad!_ " She pointed at him.

" _Bad!_ " he sang-shouted, not knowing what else to do.

" _Blood!_ " she sang.

" _Blood!_ " he repeated.

" _The bitch in her smile,_ " they sang together. " _The lie is on her lips. Such an evil child!_ "

The day's heaviness drained from him as they went on, not just because of the song. His mother possessed a strength he'd never appreciated before then. Her compassion seemed to know no bounds. In spite of dealing with arrogant idiot doctors, an endless amount of demands, and a deep measure of loss, she could still see the bigger picture. She still found joy.

"Donna," Eric said; the ring had stopped singing, and Eric's awareness had returned to the forest, "your trust in me means more than I have words to tell you." He slid his arm around Donna's back, and he pulled himself closer to her as the fire crackled in front of them. "And I know I haven't been easy to trust for a long time. Remember how I said part of me is still in Fez's ballroom, crying over Laurie's body?"

"Yeah." Her arm glided around his back, too, and hugged him.

"Well, another part of me is cowering in the Sheboygan parking lot, the one I hid in after I ran off on you... the day of our first wedding rehearsal.

"Sheboygan?" She was chuckling. " _That's_ where you went?"

"Yes." He withdrew from the embrace. His shoes dug in the dirt and leaves before he grasped her hands. "I need you to _keep_ trusting me, no matter how bad things may look from here on in. The ring is burning with hatred, Donna. I can feel it. The curse has got to be tightening on Hyde. I really hope he and Jackie are all okay."

"Eric..." her voice shrank to a whisper, "what are you planning? What—what are you gonna do?"

"Oh, not much," he said with feigned casualness. "Just give Penny everything she wants."

* * *

Kelso was sitting in the castle's dining room alone, with no recollection of how he'd gotten there. A meal of marinated grilled steak and roasted red potatoes was spread out in front of him. Was it dinner time or breakfast? He had no idea. The last thing he remembered was his own hot-as-hell reflection, and that could never be a bad thing, right?

Jackie and Steven had searched the castle for well over an hour, but Fez was nowhere to be found. She wanted to share with him her theory about Penny, that she was the one who'd worked the curse for her mother and grandmother. But from the east wing to the west wing, Red Caps and attendants were no help. Sure, Penny had a war to prepare for, and Eric and Donna were out in the forest, trying to keep that war from happening—but _someone_ should have seen Fez around.

Steven suggested they search the grounds outside, and Jackie agreed. He tried to hold her hand as they walked to various overlooks in the outer walls, but she refused to let him touch her. Was he a glutton for punishment or just not paying attention?

"I don't have Forman's wolf-sight," he said, and they pushed away from the last overlook. Some views had been scenic, where the city of Needles glimmered below in a panorama of lights. Others were strategic, where the castle's woods sprawled out in shadow. But if Fez were down there, he'd be too tiny to spot. "Let's try the gardens."

He tried to hold her hand yet again, and she took two giant strides away from him. "Cut it out," she said, "or I'm keeping at least this much distance between us..." She shuddered. Darkness had seeped into her skin despite the standing torches and the almost-full moon in the sky. "But I don't want to, so please stop, okay?"

He didn't answer. In fact, he barely seemed to be breathing. His chest rose and fell shallowly. His feet were rooted to their spot on stone-covered ground. She snapped her fingers in his face, but he didn't blink. She grasped his wrist, hoping the pain would reach him, and he had no reaction.

"Steven," she said and let him go, but she got no response. No round of vomiting. Another onslaught of memories must have trapped him.

She stood back and patiently waited for it to pass, but after a minute she covered her mouth. His bottom lip had split open and begun to swell, as if he'd been punched by an invisible fist.

Hyde had never been in a bar fight before, but he was about to change that. Forman's unconscious body was lying on the sticky, beer-covered floor of Charlie's Tavern. He'd gotten himself knocked out by a territorial dirtbag, but Forman should've known better. The guy he provoked was twice his size, and now Hyde had to defend his friend's honor.

"Anybody else? Huh?" the dirtbag said. He was breathing heavily, and the veins in his thick neck had popped out. He wasn't someone Hyde would normally scuffle with, but the guy's buddy was a shrimp.

"Well, there's three of us..." Hyde said. He glanced at Kelso and Fez then moved his glance to the floor. Forman's eye was already purpling. He'd been screwed up badly by having his bitch-grandma die on top of him. These two assholes couldn't have picked a worse time to fight over some chicks. "So..." Hyde shrugged, but he also bent his knee to put power into his front leg, "yeah!"

He tackled the dirtbag to the ground—and made the first blow to his jaw. Retaliation for Forman, but the dirtbag's fist connected with Hyde's mouth and sent Hyde rolling away.

"Damn it," Hyde muttered. His bottom lip was cut and bleeding, but at least his teeth didn't feel loose. He tried to recover his wits, but the dirtbag jumped on top of him with a raised fist.

"Like my girl would ever go for a pisshead like you," the dirtbag said, and Hyde went for a good ol' throat jab. His knuckles smashed into the dirtbag's neck, and the dirtbag coughed out what had to be a lung as Hyde pushed himself to his knees.

Hyde had the advantage now. He drew back his fist and...

It collided with Chip's face. His body twisted and hit the pavement of the Formans' driveway, but the sight barely registered. All Hyde could concentrate on were Chip's last words about Jackie, " _She's a bitch,_ " and the unspoken threat beneath them, " _I'm gonna fuck the shit outta her._ "

Images burst into Hyde's mind of Jackie being held down. Of the bastard forcing himself between her thighs. Of her huddling in the corner of a scalding shower. Had Hyde not done something, her abrasively bright spirit would've been fucked to pieces by someone who didn't see her as human but as prey.

Hyde's fists remained clenched. He didn't give a crap if Chip were unconscious or not. He'd make sure the bastard never hurt another chick again—

But he was gone, along with the Formans' driveway.

"You good-for-nothin' bitch!" a rough and drunk voice said. It belonged to "Uncle" Pigface, a truck-sized man who was speaking over Hyde's equally drunk mother. "Ya damn whore, you can't break things off with me. You're shit without me!"

Hyde's fists shook. He was standing in the bathroom doorway of his old house, watching the asshole advance on Edna. He'd already witnessed Pigface smashing her to the living room floor.

"Hey!" Hyde shouted. His thirteen-year-old voice sounded halfway between a man and a kid's. "Pick on someone who can fight back."

Pigface stumbled over Edna's body to the bathroom. "Like you?"

"Yeah. Like me."

"Have it your way." Pigface lunged at him, but Hyde scooted back into the shower. Pigface's wild swing slammed into the mirror and cracked it into a dozen shards. Hyde took his chance and darted around him to the living room. "No, ya don't!" Pigface shouted. "Come back here, you little puke!"

Pigface's heavy steps lumbered after him, but Hyde was trying to rouse Edna. "Ma, Ma—we gotta get outta here." If he could get them into Pigface's van, he could hot-wire the thing and drive them somewhere safe. Uncle Chet had taught him how to do both—drive and hot-wire cars—among other useful things, but Edna was a drunken puddle. Her body slipped out of his grasp, as liquid as her vodka. He'd have to toss her over his shoulder—

Too late. Pigface dug his sausage-like fingers into Hyde's shoulder. He forced Hyde around and laid him out with one punch to his left eye.

"Puddin'! Puddin', please, come back!"

Hyde's hand went to his left eye. It felt tender and swollen, but the flesh beneath his fingertips shrank, as did the pain, until his eye was no longer bruised. Penny's castle rose behind Jackie's relieved face, and the mountainside rose even higher, far beyond the castle's towers.

Jackie stepped toward him but stopped short of touching him. "What's the curse doing to you?" she said. Her voice was a plaintive cry, and he took the initiative. He enclosed her in his arms before she could object, but pain radiated into him from where their bodies connected. He grunted but held on as the contact scraped every nerve. "No!" She shoved him away. "You are _not_ to touch me, understand?"

_Like hell,_ he wanted to say but couldn't.

"Baby, I mean it. _Don't touch me._ " She must have seen rebellion in his eyes. "I don't know what the curse stole from you this time, or if it just made the pain worse, but you've been through enough because of me."

He shook his head slightly, but that was all he could do. She was the one who'd made the suffering in his life _stop._ He should have told her that, and as she strode forward to the castle's keep, he began to tremble. Not from pain—that had faded once she pushed him off her—but from an overwhelming sense of panic. The curse had failed in the morning to rob something from him, so it upped the ante yet again, attacking him twice in the same day. If he'd lost the ability to protect Jackie...

He caught up to her, glad she refused to touch him. Otherwise, she'd feel just how fast his terrified heart was beating.

* * *

"We cannot rally our troops in the forest surrounding Moonlight City!" Fez shouted. "Too many wolf villages border it!"

He and Penny were in the war room, arguing over tactics. She'd made too many rash suggestions, and—admittedly—he was on edge because of Miss Muffet's death. But if Kelso had not been so preoccupied with his love for Brooke, he would've backed Fez up. The last Fez had seen of him, he was wandering toward the dining room, still singing that silly song.

Penny gestured to the walls, to the swaths of scarlet fabric draped over them. They were glowing with various patterns. "Do you know what that message means?" she said. He did. Grayhead's use of Gretel's corpse as a banner was working. "The wolves' numbers will only grow the farther north they push," she continued. "We have a limited amount of wolf whistles. With the Second Kingdom's economy being as it is, I can't afford to outfit more than a _fraction_ of the Red Caps with them. My request to the First Kingdom for aid has not yet been filled. We have to use the power we have if we—"

"Power?" Fez said. "I know what power you really want." His anger had reached its apex, and it made him reckless, but right now, he didn't care. She was lucky he didn't drag her to the dungeons by her scarlet cloak. "Oh, do not deny it. You wove the curse that binds Jackie and Hyde."

"What?" She scoffed. "I barely know about Jackie and Hyde's curse. Once Kelso told me, I had no time to ask them about it. I have a kingdom to save, and curses happen all the time in the Nine Kingdoms. Another one is hardly worth my attention, although I'm sorry your friends have—"

He waved his hand in front of him, to indicate how badly Penny's words stunk. "Cut the crap, lady. They haven't realized yet you are responsible. I've had no time to share it with them. But you most certainly cursed the ring—to help you control the Second Kingdom, maybe _all_ the Kingdoms, like Snow White's stepmother tried to do through Laurie."

Penny placed a hand over her heart. Her expression was full of mock-innocence. "That ring you gave Jackie and Hyde—your dear grandmother _Snow White's_ ring—has power? Why, I never would have guessed. Too bad some jeweler in Kenosha has it. He probably sold it already to some sugar daddy trying to impress his twenty-year-old mistress."

"You will never get that ring on your finger," Fez said. He charged to the Second Kingdom map at the back wall and gestured to its southern half. "Nor will you claim Gretel's kingdom as yours. Once we have defeated the wolves, I will make it my first duty to find the right sovereign to succeed Gretel."

"Oh, Fez," she was laughing, and he didn't like it, "I've already found the right sovereign."

"That is what I'm telling you. It is _not_ you."

"No, it's not," she said.

"Or Eric," he said, "as your puppet.."

"I wouldn't imagine making Eric my puppet, and I didn't curse your friends either." Her footsteps barely sounded on the flagstones as she joined him by the map. "By far, you are the most suspicious sovereign I have ever met." On several pedestals were crystal bowls. They each contained different colored, jewel-topped pushpins, and she picked up a bowl full of black ones. "But I suppose having your wife murder your parents would make a man the suspicious type." She swirled her hand around the black-topped pushpins. "Really, Fez..."

She was looking at the scarlet-draped walls. The patterns flashing across them relayed messages of more dead, and she stuck one pushpin into Moonlight City. The attack had been minor, a scouting mission that had gotten messy.

"I have only the best interests of my kingdom at heart," Penny said.

"You don't have a heart," Fez said.

Her mouth shut like he'd actually hurt her, but she recovered. "And your heart is too soft. Sometimes harsh decisions have to be made for the greater benefit." She replaced the bowl of pushpins on its pedestal. "Now, where are we going to launch our first strike?"

* * *

Jackie and Hyde arrived in the dining room when Kelso was halfway through dinner, and Kelso was glad. Mounted animal trophies as his only company creeped him out. Their glassy eyes stared at him as he ate, as if they knew he was eating their forest friend—although cows didn't live in forests, did they?

"Hey," he said, but his brow furrowed when Jackie sat two chairs away from Hyde. "Did you guys have a fight? Did Hyde try to do _that_ to you?"

"No," Jackie said, and she didn't speak again until she and Hyde were served their steaks and potatoes—and the attendants had left. "The curse isn't letting me touch him, and he's having trouble with that. I swear, the next time I see Penny, I'll yank her lips off."

"Why?" Kelso said. "What'd she do?"

"She cursed us! She did the dirty work for her mom and grandmother. It's the only answer that makes sense."

"Hah!" Kelso stuck a triumphant chunk of steak at her. "Told ya corpses couldn't do it by themselves."

Hyde grunted. He probably wanted to make a comment about the curse, but then he said, "Where've you been all day?"

"Don't know."

Hyde narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"That's exactly what I mean. I kept hearing that Ramones song. It's gone now, but I followed it to my own reflection, and that's all I remember."

"Your own reflection?" Jackie said.

"The mirror!" Hyde said, and he and Jackie both stood from the table. "Get up, man. We gotta go find Fez—and our way home."

Jackie nodded. "Yeah, the last we heard, he was in his suite, crying."

Kelso put his fork down. "Crying? Over what?"

"My guess, doing it with Rhonda the first time," Hyde said.

"Fez did admit to me he cries after sex sometimes." Kelso stood up reluctantly. Man, he hated to leave that steak, but duty was duty. "Maybe he's in shock over how good the sex was. He could be rambling around the castle in a daze. I bet if we find Rhonda, she'll know."

"Why wasn't she here for dinner?" Jackie said.

Kelso shrugged. "She was probably out in the woods hunting for her food."

He wasn't wrong. In the cavernous great hall, they found her wearing her leather Troll armor. She was also picking her teeth with a whittled branch.

"Rhonda," Hyde said, "you got any idea where Fez is?"

"Discussing war strategy with Penny," she said. "The wolves have taken over Gingerbread Town and killed Miss Muffet."

"No..." Kelso's stomach grew heavy, and pressure built up behind his eyes. "No way." In the short time he'd spent with Miss Muffet, he'd grown fond of her.

"Sunlight," Hyde grabbed Jackie's hand and winced, and he spoke through gritted teeth, "we gotta talk."

"About what?" Jackie said.

"Everything." His face was flushing, but he didn't release her. "Kelso, when you see him, tell Fez what happened to you today."

"I told you, I don't _know_ what happened to me," Kelso said.

Hyde frogged him in the shoulder and whispered, "Tell him you saw the mirror!"

"Oh. Right," though Kelso really didn't remember seeing the mirror. Just his handsome, too-good-looking reflection.

Hyde and Jackie left him and Rhonda in the great hall. They were headed for the royal wing, and Jackie tried to shake Hyde's grip on her hand. He didn't let go, however, until they began to climb the stairs.

"Why do you keep doing that?" she shouted.

"Why do you think?" Hyde said.

"You like to to torture yourself?" She huffed. "I didn't know puddin' pops came in 'masochist' flavor."

Their voices faded as their bodies disappeared up the stairs, and Kelso rubbed the ache in his shoulder. It had to be nothing in comparison to the pain Hyde was feeling. Sex was going to be hell for those two.

"Kelso," Rhonda said behind him.

"Yeah, I'm going to the war room. You comin'?"

"No, I'm going to the front lines to help Fez's army."

"What?" Kelso stared at her. Every weapon she owned was sheathed somewhere on her body. "No, you're not. Fez would never send you out there."

"Yes, I am, and he doesn't know."

"Come on..." He began to laugh. "It's suicide. Fez couldn't send enough troops—"

"He was right not to," she said. "Leaving his own kingdom undefended would be foolish."

Kelso's laughter jammed in his throat. "You can't go, Rhonda. Fez loves you."

"And I love Fez. Don'tcha see? That's why I _gotta_ go."

She was pleading with him, and her pleas seemed all the more desperate among the rustic décor in the great hall. Big Rhonda was built for battle. The fur pelts on the walls could've been her armor and any of the mounted animal heads, her helmet. The orange torchlight suited her skin tone, and the scarlet banners dangling all around them were like blood—Miss Muffet's and the Second Kingdom citizens'. If anyone could keep the wolves from shedding more of that blood, it was her. She was excellent at tactics, maybe even better than Kelso was. She had an instinct for it.

"All right." He pulled his rank badges from his jacket pocket. Then he pinned them on the fabric peeking out from her leather breastplate. "These'll give you a better chance getting Cadell and the Fourth Kingdom army to listen to you. As will this little rhyme, 'Candy, candy, boobs, and brandy. Fez likes them all, and he's just dandy.'"

She smiled and punched his arm lightly. "Thank you, Kelso. I have something for you, too. A pair of nuts."

"Hey! My nuts are plenty big—"

She produced two silver acorns from her belt.

" _Magic_ nuts?" he said. "Where'd you get those?"

"Burly, Blabberwort, and Bluebell have a magic oak in their castle. They gave me these nuts in case I ever got into trouble and needed a safe place to go. You might have more use for them than I do."

Kelso stuffed the nuts in his pants pocket. "Thanks."

"Oh, one more thing." Rhonda cupped the back of his head and pecked him on the lips. "That's for Fez." Then she dashed off across the hall and to the castle's heavy doors. Red Cap guards pulled them open for her, and Kelso silently wished her luck as she vanished into the night.

* * *

Hyde and Jackie were sitting across from each other on the bed. They'd gotten their dinner "to go" and spent the last hour talking—well, Jackie had done most of the talking. Hyde couldn't contribute more than a few grunts since they were discussing the curse. She'd come to the conclusion that focusing on _who_ had cursed them was a mistake. _Why_ they were curseable, that was the key. So she'd gone over all their major fights, all the times they'd hurt or disappointed each other.

"You didn't trust me," she said. "That's why you slept with the nurse. That's why you put distance between us when my mom showed up in Point Place—"

He grunted loudly, insistently. She was wrong. He'd had trouble trusting that someone— _anyone_ —could love him the way she did.

She sighed. "I know, baby. You trust me now, and I trust you... so why are we still under this curse?"

Before he could attempt a shrug, shards of glass flew at them with a loud _crack-fwoom!_ Their window had broken, and a massive amount of wind gusted into their suite, blowing out the sconces and plunging them into darkness.

"Freakin' wolves!" he said. "Huffers and puffers." He tried to move when the air finally stilled, but he couldn't. His body was effectively paralyzed, frozen to his spot on the bed.

"Steven!" Jackie shrieked, and nausea exploded inside his stomach. It forced up the steak and potatoes he'd had for dinner. "Steven," she shrieked again, and his vomiting grew more violent, "he's taking me out the window!"

He had no way of seeing her. The suite was pitch black. The wolves must have covered the window with a tarp to block ambient light. And his body was doubled over anyway, unleashing his guts onto his legs, but as her screams became fainter and fainter, he knew she was gone.


	62. A Last Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 62  
 **A LAST KISS**  


Jackie grabbed onto the castle's broken window and cut her palms on shivers of glass, but the wolf yanked her outside. His arm crushed the breath from her chest, and she caught sight of the moon in the dark sky. It was almost full and probably gave the wolf more strength than usual, but she struggled against his grip anyway until she realized how far up they were. Two flights up in a castle was a lot higher than in an apartment building, and the wolf was clinging to the window sill with his other arm. How did he expect to get down with her?

His grip on her waist loosened. "Wait," she said and scrambled to clutch any part him—his clothing, his face—but he flung her out into the air. The forward momentum lasted only a second. The bastard had dropped her, and her stomach rose into her throat as she plummeted toward the earth, but she landed unharmed in the arms of a wolf on the ground.

"Welcome," he said and thrust her over his shoulder. He carried her that way and dashed through the castle grounds, but she had no energy to fight. He was running so fast, and his shoulder pressed into her diaphragm hard enough to make her vomit up dinner. By the time she recovered, they'd passed the castle gates.

Red Caps hadn't been stationed in the gatehouse. Where were they? Why didn't they try to stop the wolves? And Steven hadn't even tried to protect her... because he _couldn't_ protect her anymore. The curse wouldn't let him. That was the only explanation that made sense to her, the only one she'd accept.

The wolf carried her into the city of Needles, and she shouted, "Wolf! Wolf! Help!" but no one seemed to be on the streets. If people could hear her inside their houses, they were either too frightened or didn't care enough to come outside. "I don't have the ring!" she said, but the wolf ignored her and barreled through the deserted city.

He had to be taking her to Grayhead, but she wouldn't allow it. The wolf's shirt was too thick to rip open, but his bushy tail was sticking out of a hole cut into his pants. She reached down and snatched a clump of his fur. He let out a high-pitched howl as she tugged and tugged until the fur tore off.

The wolf's fingers dug into her waist, and he pulled her from his shoulder. She'd gotten his attention, but his hands clamped around her arms, and he raised her up so her feet didn't touch the ground. "If you touch my tail again," he said and bared his sharp teeth, "I'll bite your face off."

"I don't think so," she said. "You need me to help you find the ring, and—"

His snarl turned into a frightening grin. "We don't need you alive. It's just more fun this way. So, please..." he squeezed her arms until she shrieked in pain, "don't touch the tail."

He dumped her back over his shoulder, and they reached the city walls. Two Red Caps were stationed there—they had to be in on this kidnapping, working for Grayhead—and Jackie screamed at them as they opened the iron gates. "You won't get what you want this way! Grayhead's gonna betray all of you!"

The wolf patted Jackie's butt. "I love feisty prey." Then he inhaled deeply, and she trembled as a growl of pleasure rumbled in his throat. "Your smell is marvelously terrified."

He spirited her from the city gates into a legion of night-darkened trees. They were entering Red Riding Hood Forest, and panic threatened to make her pass out. _We don't need you alive,_ he'd said. But if they did keep her alive, what they'd do to her would likely be far worse.

* * *

Fez finally returned to the royal wing after too many long hours with Penny in the war room. But at least they'd agreed on a strategy against the wolves. The Red Caps and his army would make their stand in the Belt—the neutral, five-mile stretch of Red Riding Hood Forest that split the north and south Second Kingdom. The foothills of the Welkin Mountains were difficult for wolves to traverse, and they would give Fez and Penny's soldiers time before Grayhead could swell his ranks with the northern wolf villages.

Fez planned on sharing this strategy with Rhonda, but shouts filled the the royal wing before he reached his suite. He listened for a moment, and Hyde's "Fuck! FUCK!" rang loud and clear. Fez unsheathed his rapier and charged Hyde's door. He prepared to kick it down when Kelso almost collided into him.

"I heard a crash," Kelso said. He, too, had his sword drawn and a leather glove on his left hand. "We gotta get in there."

Hyde's door was locked, but together, Fez and Kelso smashed their boots into it and broke it open. The suite was dark and cold, and it smelled like vomit. The sconces in the hallway gave just enough light to illuminate Hyde's silhouette on the bed.

"What happened?" Fez said.

"Sunlight!" Hyde said, but Fez didn't understand. The sun wouldn't rise for ten hours. It was the thick of night. "Her!" Hyde shouted. " _Her,_ damn it!"

Kelso tapped Fez on the shoulder, "Busted window," and hurried to the jagged, glass-framed hole in the wall.

"Wolves?" Fez said to Hyde, but Hyde only grunted, and his shoulders twitched. He must have been frozen in place by the curse. Fez moved past him, and his boots crunched on broken glass as he joined Kelso at the window. A tarp was flapping against it, blocking their view of the castle grounds below.

Carefully, he and Kelso grabbed the thin but strong material and pulled the tarp inside the room. Their unobstructed sight revealed little, however. The castle grounds were devoid of activity. No wolves, and no Red Caps either.

"Where are they?" Fez said. "The castle should be swarming with Penny's scarlet-cloaked army."

Kelso didn't seem to hear him. "Wolves took Jackie?" Panic was in his voice. "I gotta get down there. It's my fault! I was supposed to guard them—"

"Kelso," Fez grasped Kelso's arm, "now is not the time for guilt. The door was locked. Even Hyde would agree. Yes, Hyde?" But Hyde's shoulders twitched again. He was trying to get off the bed. "Do not worry, my friend. Kelso and I are on top of this." Fez tugged Kelso forward, and they ran from the suite. "Rhonda is an asset. Let us get her before—"

"Dude," Kelso said, "she's not in your room."

"Where is she?"

"I—"

"Never mind." Fez rushed toward the stairs. "I'm sure we'll find her soon enough. For now, we must find the Red Caps. Jackie is our priority."

Down in the great hall, six Red Caps stood guard by the castle's bulky doors. The girls were on the younger side, none older than fourteen. "Your Majesty," they said, "how can we—"

"Wolves have infiltrated the castle," Fez said. "You must alert Penny and—"

"Oh, did you break another window?" The Red Caps were giggling— _giggling!_ —at a time like this. "Because the glazier might give us a frequent patron discount—"

"No, wolves really got into the castle!" Kelso said.

"I know this game!" a Red Cap said. "You're crying wolf!"

Fez swore at himself. The Red Caps had seen through his ruse last night. He'd ruined his credibility with them, and Jackie was going to pay the price. "Open these doors," he said.

The Red Caps continued to giggle. "But if there are wolves out there, wouldn't it be safer to stay inside?"

"I said, 'Open the damn doors!'"

"Y—yes, Your Majesty."

The Red Caps pulled open the doors, and Fez and Kelso raced outside with the nearly-full moon overhead. The wolves would be much stronger than usual. He and Kelso would have to use all their skills and experience and Wolfsbane to overcome them. He only wished Rhonda were at their side.

* * *

"We're almost there, Donna," Eric said. He'd spotted the top-most point of Riding Hood Castle—the glimmering window in the east tower. Their horses had traveled a good distance and, more importantly, in the right direction. "We'll reach Needles in a few minutes."

"Good because I'm dead tired." Donna patted the neck of her horse. "I'm sure you are, too."

Eric smiled to himself. She hadn't questioned how he knew they were close. She seemed to understand, finally, what his enhanced senses could do. "Yeah," he said, "and I'm starving. I hope Penny's chefs are—"

His breath hitched. Two scents, as distinct as they were alarming, had pushed into his nose: a wolf's and _Jackie's._

He pulled back on the reins, and Donna did the same. Their horses stopped in the middle of a stand of trees. "No, Donna, keep going. I'll meet you back at the castle."

"What?"

"Please, don't argue. Just do it."

"O—okay." Her heels tapped her horse's sides, and she trotted off toward the city of Needles.

He watched her for a brief moment. She'd left him so easily. Had his eyes glowed orange? Or did she really trust him that much? He didn't know, and he had no time to give it any more thought. He coaxed his horse into walking then to a trot. He rode it deeper into the woods and steeled himself for a fight.

* * *

The wolf had taken Jackie into the forest. Beneath its dense canopy and the night sky, she was almost as blind as she'd been in Grayhead's village. But a half-dozen shadows roamed around the dark trees, and her hearing was intact. The dry sounds of sniffing combined with guttural whispers told her she was surrounded by wolves.

"It's not on her finger," her kidnapper said. He was holding her in front of him with her back pressed to his chest. His hands dug into her arms so tightly she wanted to scream, but she wouldn't give him that gift.

The sniffing grew louder, and the shadows grew bigger until they were on top of her. The wolves' noses trailed over her body, over her face, down her neck. Her kidnapper loosened his grip, and the wolves sniffed under her arms. Then, roughly, they tore off her blouse. They ripped open her pants, too, and she shouted objections, but all that remained on her body in the end was her skin.

She shuddered but not because of the cold. Terror flowed in her blood, and one of the wolves ran a sharp nail down her bare stomach. "She stinks of him," he said, and she flinched. Did he mean Steven? Were these wolves the ones who'd torn Steven apart?

"Of course she does," her kidnapper said. He tightened his grip on her again, and he turned her around. His face was a collection of threatening shadows, made all the more fearsome by the glint of his sharp teeth. "I am Vojin, and you..." his eyes burst into orange light, "will tell me who has the ring."

Jackie felt no compulsion to tell him anything. His hypno-trick didn't seem to be working, and the other wolves laughed. "She resists you," one of them said.

Vojin's eyes flared orange again, and he repeated, "Who has the ring?" yet she still didn't answer. Steven's were the only eyes that could mesmerize her. Of that, she was certain. "She must be blind," the wolf said. "The curse's hold on her is strong."

"I can see perfectly well, thank you," she said, but her voice was shrill from fear. "For instance, I can see your teeth are too small for your face!"

The other wolves offered more laughter, but one growl from Vojin shut them up. He squeezed Jackie's arms and made her cry out. "I will chew your body piece-by-piece," he said, "like I did your beloved, until you tell me where the ring is."

"No!" a young voice shouted, and the smallest of the wolf-shadows stepped forward. "You can't do that to her—" But he whimpered in pain and scurried back to the trees. One of the other wolves must have hurt him somehow, maybe bitten his tail.

"So which favored part of you should I deprive your beloved of first?" Vojin said and nuzzled Jackie behind the earlobe. Then he raised her wrists to his mouth, and his tongue glided over their soft underside. "Perhaps this..." He pressed his cheek between her breasts and dragged it down her stomach. "Or maybe this." He dropped to his knees, and her breath caught as he inhaled deeply at the juncture between her thighs.

His touch left a residue of horror and disgust on her skin. He knew just where Steven liked best to kiss her. "My beloved's already deprived of all of them," she said and hoped it would make a difference.

It didn't. Vojin kissed the top of her right thigh. His lips were hot and moist, and she struggled in vain to pull away. His hands were too tight on her wrists, and his stomach deflected her kicks as if she were an ant. "I will ask you again," he said into her leg, "where is your ring?"

She wanted to tell him. To let the wolves go after Eric and leave her alone—but she had no guarantee they'd allow her to live if she told them. And if they hurt Eric, she'd never forgive herself. He was twitchy and annoying, but he was also her friend.

She said nothing, and Vojin sunk his teeth into her thigh. Pain burned through her body as he slowly tore out her flesh and muscle.

"Stop!" the young wolf shouted.

"She's just human," an older wolf said. "Who cares?"

Vojin pulled his mouth from her and rose to his feet. His glowing orange eyes provided enough light to illuminate his blood-filled smile. "Now, where is your ring?"

She was screaming, endlessly screaming, but the voice seemed like someone else's. Her mind couldn't register the amount of damage the wolf had done to her body. Her nerves throbbed with fire, dizziness spun through her head, but Vojin shoved her to the dirt before her legs collapsed. She was on her back. She had a vague awareness of him sniffing her stomach. His breath moistened the skin below her bellybutton, and then a blue cloud of dust exploded beside them.

The wolves scattered into the trees except for Vojin. He leapt up and yanked Jackie with him. His arms crushed her to his chest, and he snarled as bright dots floated in front of her eyes. Eric was standing in the middle of those dots, Wolfsbane was clutched in leather-gloved hand. He disappeared, though, as her eyes drifted closed. A soothing void bled into the surrounding forest, quieting its confusing sounds and numbing the freezing air, and—blessedly—it did the same to her agonized body until she herself was a void, empty of all sensation and thought.

* * *

"Let her go," Eric said and drew back his fist full of Wolfsbane, "unless you enjoy being paralyzed."

"Uh-uh." The wolf lifted Jackie's unconscious head and placed his lips to her neck."You are going to drop that garbage on the ground and leave," he said and bared his teeth, "unless you want this sweet thing to die."

A sizable chunk of flesh had been ripped from Jackie's thigh. Blood gushed from the gaping wound in pulses, timed with her heartbeat. She should have died already, but if the wolf tore out her throat, she'd die for sure.

The Wolfsbane fell from Eric's hand to the dirt. Then he pulled the cursed ring from his shirt collar. In response, Jackie's body dropped to the ground. The wolf had released her, and he approached Eric with wide steps, but Eric was faster. He withdrew pellets of indigo, death-inducing Wolfsbane from their pouch, and the wolf stopped in his tracks.

"You know what these things are," Eric said and indicated what he held in both hands. "Tell Grayhead they're waiting for him at Red Riding Hood Castle. If he wants the ring, he'll have to come and get it."

The wolf growled but retreated into the woods. His scent and those of the other wolves faded until only their residue remained.

Eric dropped the Wolfsbane back into its pouch and tucked the ring back into his shirt. Then, carefully, he removed his leather glove and tossed it into the trees. He couldn't use it again without risking death. It was covered in indigo Wolfsbane powder.

Only when the dangers to himself were safely put away did he go to Jackie in the dirt. Her blood smelled overwhelmingly like Hyde, and her wound was frighteningly deep. The wolf had severed her femoral artery. None of the first aid his mother had taught him would help, but he used the knife he carried to cut a sleeve off his jacket. Then he broke a slim, sturdy branch off a tree and tied a tourniquet around it and above the wound...

But she had no hope if he didn't get her to the castle, to the Red Caps and Hyde.

He ran through the woods with her unconscious body in his arms. His horse was chewing on some grass in a tiny clearing among the trees. He managed to heft Jackie onto the saddle and positioned her to lean over the horse's broad neck. Then he mounted the saddle himself and sat behind her. He kept an arm around her waist and put both reins into one hand. He'd seen cowboys in old westerns ride that way, but his horse didn't seem to appreciate the move. Its hooves stomped, and its head reared back. He'd really agitated it, so he hopped off the saddle and stepped in front of the horse's squealing face.

"Hey, I'm sorry about that, but my friend's dying." His eyes stung—they had to be glowing orange—and he captured the horse's gaze. "Please, take us to the castle. I won't even touch the reins, okay? But, please, get us there in one piece."

The horse quieted down and exhaled through its nose. Eric took that as a yes and remounted the saddle. He put his arm around Jackie's waist again and held onto the saddle's pommel, and the horse took off for Needles.

They made it to the city in good time, and Fez and Kelso pulled open the gates instead of Red Caps. Donna was with them, as was her horse and two others. Her eyes widened at the sight of Jackie's unconscious body. "What happened?" she said.

"All of you, we gotta ride," Eric said. "I'll tell you on the way to the castle."

Donna, Fez, and Kelso mounted their horses, and they galloped with Eric through the empty streets of the city. Eric held Jackie against his stomach and glanced down at the tourniquet. It was holding, but for how long?

"Eric," Donna said, and Eric explained how he'd smelled a wolf and Jackie in the forest, what had happened when he found them—except for the part about revealing the ring.

"The Red Caps are totally in on it with the wolves," Kelso said. "They let the wolves into the city, into the castle. That wolf busted in through Hyde and Jackie's window..." He went on, sharing how he and Fez took two horses from the stables and how they'd run into Donna in the city. She'd told them that Eric had separated from her in the woods.

"We knew you had gone after Jackie," Fez said.

The horses reached the castle gates. Older, gray-haired attendants were stationed there. Eric dismounted and pulled Jackie's body back into his arms. Donna, Fez, and Kelso dismounted, too, and the attendants sewed patterns in swatches of scarlet cloth. "You can leave your horses with us," they said. "Bring her to the castle."

Eric began to race toward the keep. "Where's Hyde?"

Donna and Kelso ran behind, but Fez ran beside him and breathed heavily. "Paralyzed... on his bed... by the curse."

"But, wait..." Eric said. "are _all_ the Red Caps are working with the wolves now?"

"No," Fez huffed, "just... certain groups. They are... unhappy with... Penny's reign."

Eric swallowed. Without the Red Caps' help, Jackie had no chance of survival.

He sped his pace as the keep's gray walls loomed overhead. "I got the door!" Kelso shouted and zoomed past him, and Eric's hackles raised. He'd caught a heavy whiff of Kelso's scent, but Kelso didn't smell only like Kelso. He also smelled like motor oil and metal and something Eric could only define as Red Forman.

Eric scoffed inwardly. How could Kelso smell like Red? Eric's father was safe in Wisconsin, on the other side of the missing Traveling mirror. Eric must have conjured up the scent in his freaked-out mind. How many times since coming here had he longed for his parents' presence? And now, with his friend dying in his arms, he was longing for them again.

* * *

The curse finally released Hyde's body from stasis, and he fell flat on his face into his own puke. He'd been pushing his muscles against the curse's hold on them, but his reflexes weren't dulled a bit. He rolled off the bed onto the floor and got to his feet, and he took a moment to wipe his face clean so he could see properly. Then he stuffed a pouch of Wolfsbane into his pants pocket and bolted from his room. Jackie was either dead or really far away. How else to explain his sudden freedom? But his heart still felt whole, so he went with option two, _distance,_ as he jetted down the stairs toward the great hall...

And learned just how wrong he could be.

Forman was carrying Jackie's naked body, and if anyone else was in the great hall with them, Hyde didn't know. His awareness had narrowed to her blood-soaked leg. A loosened tourniquet fell off her thigh, and a stick clattered onto the flagstones.

"Give her to me," Hyde said, and Jackie was passed into his arms along with an incredible amount of pain. It raked his nerves. His legs buckled, and his arms gave out, but two pairs of hands caught her. Forman and Kelso had Jackie now.

"Hyde, what's going on?" Donna said. "Why did you drop her?"

"The curse," Kelso answered for him. "Touching her hurts."

But with Jackie out of Hyde's possession, the pain had ebbed. Eric was carrying her again, and Hyde stared at the cavern in her thigh. It was weeping crimson, and a thought occurred to him. He still had the jar of curdling moss from Gingerbread town. "Follow me," he said, "and bring her!"

He ran on shaky legs back up the stairs. He entered his suite as his friends' footsteps echoed behind him. The place was too dark for him to find his knapsack.

"Someone light the damn candles!" he shouted, but Forman swept past him and set Jackie on the bed. His wolfy eyes could see without too much light, unlike Hyde's. "Moss is in my knapsack, Forman."

"Got it."

Fingers snapped, and the room brightened. The sconces were lit. Fez or Kelso or Donna must have done it. But Hyde's focus was on the life draining in front of him, not on the details behind him. Jackie's was so damn pale, and the quilt beneath her grew red with blood. "Forman, come on!"

Forman darted to the bed with the jar of blue-black moss. He opened the lid and slathered the gunk into Jackie's wound, but blood seeped around it. "Her femoral artery's been torn," he said.

"We must find the Red Caps," Fez said.

"But they've defected—" Kelso said.

"I said, 'Red Caps!'" Fez repeated. Then neither he nor Kelso said anything else. They must have left the suite, but Hyde didn't see them. He only heard them. His sight was full of Jackie's blood.

"Her artery?" he said. "What's that mean, Forman?"

"It means you're keeping her alive." Forman scooped the last of the moss into Jackie's wound. "Not sure for how much longer. Back home, she would've bled to death seconds after the injury. Maybe after a minute."

"I'm keeping her alive?" For a moment, Hyde didn't get it, but the memory of his own bloody hands buried in Jackie's hair brought understanding. "I'm keeping her... Shit, I'm _keeping_ her," he said. "Everyone out."

"Hyde?" Donna said.

"I'm fucking keeping her! Out. Now!"

Frantic footsteps faded, and he and Jackie were alone. He put his hand down on the quilt, intending to crawl over her pale and naked body, but his palm landed in her blood. It scorched his skin like fire. Pain burned up his arm, but he could use that pain. He knelt on the floor next to her slack face. His own face got hot, as it always did on the rare occurrence of tears, but no tears came. The curse was blocking them, or maybe he was in too much shock

"J—" He fought to say her name but a mangled, wordless sound came out. Only one thing left to do. He rubbed his thumb over her cold lips. Pain sliced into him, but it wasn't enough.

He stood up and pulled off his shirt. Then he lowered himself over her. Their chests and stomachs were in full contact, and it finally happened—agony, grinding his nerves into rubble. A deep groan escaped him, and the beginnings of tears crept at the corners of his eyes, but he couldn't risk collapsing and crushing her.

He shoved himself off and lay down beside her on the bed. Then, delicately, he maneuvered her body on top of him. Her back became a fence of electrified wire and forced his muscles into tight contraction Her head rested on the curve of his shoulder, and each strand of her hair was a whip lashing his skin. A scream rose in his throat, but he needed his pain to come out of his eyes. He held his breath, and tears burst free. They wet Jackie's cheek, her neck, but she didn't wake up.

Her blood saturated his pants and spread over his skin. He was losing her, and this time he couldn't swallow the scream. It shredded his vocal chords, and he barely noticed when Forman and Donna rushed the bed.

"What the hell are you doing?" Forman said, but Hyde couldn't answer except by more screaming. "You're in pain—"

"Of course he is," Donna said, "Jackie's—"

"No, Donna, _physical_ pain."

Hyde's eyes were raw, and his voice was hoarse. "Why isn't it working? I'm fucking crying, so why isn't it working?"

"Oh, God, Eric, he's trying to—" Donna cut herself off. "It's not the tears, Hyde. It's the emotion behind them. Your tears have to be cried from love, not pain."

"Shit!" Hyde gestured for help. "Get her off me, get her off me!" Forman and Donna lifted Jackie's unconscious, dying body, and Hyde rolled over and crashed to the floor. "My pants..." They were drenched in Jackie's blood and burning his skin, but Forman yanked them from his legs. "The blood, man... use something... wipe it off."

Time lost coherence as a wet towel washed his legs clean of pain. Were minutes ticking by? Hours? The physical relief and dissipating adrenaline sapped his strength, exhausted him, but he forced himself to sit up. Forman was crouched a foot away, and Hyde looked at him through tears from the wrong place.

"I can't cry over her, man. Not from where I have to." Hyde jabbed both his temples. "I'm too fucked up in here. She's gonna die 'cause of me!"

"No, she won't," Forman said. "Keep looking at me." His eyes flashed orange, and a feeling inside Hyde's chest ruptured like Jackie's artery.

He stood on wobbly legs, and Forman supported him as he bent over Jackie's body. Tears dropped onto her nose and chin. Life made no damn sense to him without her, not anymore. Even so... "Don't care if I have to give you up," he whispered. "Just fucking live."

More tears squeezed from his shut eyes, and a deep breath heaved from her lungs. "Ste... ven?"

Nausea punched his guts into his throat, but he choked down the burning bile. He opened his eyes. Her eyes were open, too, and she reached toward his face. Her fingertips were like hot pokers on his cheeks, but he was smiling. Crying and smiling.

"The wolves..." she said.

"I know."

"Tried to get the ring."

"I figured that." He bent closer and kissed her, searing his lips with tortured heat. His tears continued to spill—from the right place—and with each passing moment, color returned to Jackie's skin. Whatever trick Forman had pulled, Hyde owed him another one.

Fez and Kelso eventually arrived with a boatload of Red Caps. The girls swarmed around the bed and got to work on Jackie's thigh, but Jackie said, "Hold me, baby. Please..."

He did, and despite the fresh waves of agony the contact brought, the rupture inside his chest began to heal.

* * *

Eric stood by the suite's knocked-down door. Donna was with him, and they were keeping guard. He expected Penny and Rhonda to come running, but they didn't. Maybe they were in the war room together and working on strategy, but Eric's thoughts were much closer to home. He still smelled Red, which meant he was still freaked out, but Jackie would be fine. Thanks to Hyde's tears, her artery had patched itself up, and Eric had shed a few tears himself.

Fez and Kelso stayed close to the bathroom as Red Caps tended to Jackie inside. The girls were washing blood off her, and Hyde was inthe bathroom with them. He repeatedly warned Fez and Kelso not to leer at Jackie's naked body, but Eric believed their attentiveness had a different purpose. Too many Red Caps had gone rogue, and Fez and Kelso probably wanted to ensure they took care of Jackie properly.

Donna squeezed Eric's hand. "How'd you do it? How did you make Hyde cry?"

"I used hypnosis to bypass his shock."

"You knew it would work?"

"It was a guess."

"A good guess," she said.

He nodded, but wearing the cursed ring so near his heart had given him a lot of insight. He knew who cursed Jackie and Hyde, but he couldn't share that information with them or Donna—or _anyone._ Doing so would mess up his plans. After three generations of suffering, the Formans had suffered enough.

"I don't want to hear any arguments!" Jackie said. She limp-marched out of the bathroom with Hyde and the Red Caps trailing behind her. Fez and Kelso moved aside as she went to the closet. She had on a fluffy robe, and her wounded leg was clean of blood and bandaged.

"Quit worrying about me, okay?" Hyde said. He still had on no pants, and both his legs and arms were spotted red. "And quit hobbling around. You gotta take it easy."

"Really, Puddin', you are so frustrating sometimes." She opened the closet's pelt-draped door. Then she grabbed a set of silk pajamas and turned toward him. "You're putting these on after you wash up. I don't want you covered in my blood. It's making you hurt—and we're going to be _Sunlight and the Blue Sky,_ not Alice Cooper." She ushered Hyde back into the bathroom, and the Red Caps followed.

"'Sunlight and the Blue Sky?' Eric said to Donna.

"Their singing-duo rock band."

"Ah."

She slid her arm around his waist and pulled him close. "Yeah, I don't get it either."

* * *

Fez peered through Jackie and Hyde's broken window. Red Caps were scattered all over the grounds finally and doing their job. This shift seemed loyal to Penny, but the shift before must have been made up of members in the conspiracy to overthrow her. Fortunately, the mortal consequences to Jackie had been circumvented. She was alive and mostly well, but as she let Hyde fuss over her, Fez wondered about Rhonda. She would've heard by now what had happened if she were in the castle. Only one possibility existed. She'd sneaked into Penny's woods to do some hunting, and she'd be back any moment.

"We'll get the glazier to fix that window, Your Majesty," Ida said. She was a tall redhead and the leader of this group of Red Caps, the ones who'd come to Jackie's aid. She'd had the Red Caps sweep up the glass shards on the floor. "In the meantime..." she walked across two bearskin rugs to Hyde and addressed him, "you and your beloved should move into a room down the hall. We'll send for attendants to move your things."

"We can handle it," Jackie said. She bent to gather up her knapsack. "Ow—"

Hyde took the knapsack for her. "Your leg's gotta feel like hell."

She plumped out her bottom lip in a pout. "How did you stand feeling this all over your body, after the wolves chewed you up?"

"Had no choice," he said.

"You're lucky it was only one major wound," Ida said to Jackie, "but if you and your beloved couple together, it will speed in your recovery."

"Good idea," Eric said. He and Donna were sitting on the divan, and he cast a sidelong glance at her. "I bet if _we_ couple together, it would speed in _my_ recovery."

"Your recovery from what?" Donna said.

"Not having coupled together since yesterday. That moon is almost full. I need it, like, five times-a-day, at least."

She chuckled. "Shut up."

"Ida," Fez joined the Red Caps at the center of the room, "Queen Riding Hood must be informed of what has happened. The castle will be undefended if the wrong Red Caps are on duty. Please rouse her. Tell her to meet me in the war room—and bring the castle's duty roster to the war room, as well."

Ida bowed. "Yes, Your Highness." Then she issued orders to the Red Caps. Several left the suite with her while others remained behind as guards.

"Kelso," Fez said, "your oath to Hyde and Jackie still stands."

"Yup," Hyde said. He clapped Kelso's shoulder and gave him a forced smile. "And you get to stay in the room with us, too."

Kelso smiled back cheerfully. "While you two do it?"

" _No,_ " Jackie said, "because we're not doing it."

"Yeah, we are," Hyde said.

Kelso didn't stop smiling. "While I watch?"

"You'll stay in the bathroom while we do it in the bedroom." Hyde squeezed Kelso's shoulder until the smile vanished from Kelso's face. "You got your one and _only_ chance to see us screw in that meadow."

"Oh, yeah. I did..." Kelso's brow furrowed. "Wait, you know that? How come you never beat me up?"

"Been too busy trying not to die."

"Puddin', I'm serious," Jackie said and grabbed Hyde's wrist. A hiss of pain pushed through his clenched teeth. "We're not making love while you're in this state."

"I'll... deal with it."

"No, _I'll_ deal with it." She released his wrist. " The last time almost killed you. So I limp for a little while. I make it sexy."

Fez clapped his hands once, and the room fell silent. He gestured to the divan. "Eric, you and Donna must join me in my suite."

"Oh, uh... okay," Eric said.

He and Donna stood up, and in moments, they were across the hall in Fez's bedroom. Rhonda was not inside, but Fez had secretly hoped she would be.

"Penny has stolen the Traveling mirror from my castle," Fez said, and both Eric and Donna's mouths dropped open. Fez never had the opportunity to tell them—they'd left so early in the morning for their mission—but he told them now and quickly about his head attendant, Aubrey, being a Red Cap spy. He also told them where he and Kelso had searched. "Penny may be constantly moving it, however. With Kelso guarding Jackie and Hyde, he won't be able to look. I need you two to continue the search."

"Of course," Donna said. "I am _not_ spending the rest of my life here."

A knock rattled the suite's door. From the other side of it, Hyde's muffled voice said, "Hey, let us in." Fez opened the door. Hyde, Jackie, and Kelso charged into the suite, and Hyde insisted Jackie sit on the desk chair.

"Fez," Jackie said once seated, " you need to tell us whatever you told them."

Fez did. He wasn't trying to keep things from them, just the Red Caps.

Hyde nudged Kelso. "Your turn."

"My turn what?"

"Tell him what you saw!"

"Oh, man," Kelso said, "with everything that's been going on, I forgot. Fez, this Ramones song was stuck in my head, and I followed it to Penny and to my own reflection, and then I was in the dining room, eating steak and potatoes."

"Ai..." Fez shook his head. "I don't know what magic Penny is using—or what trick she pulled—but we must be extra careful. Now, if you will excuse me, I must meet the woman in question downstairs."

He left the suite and made sure his rapier was firmly in its scabbard. As he'd told Eric, even if Penny was innocent of killing Gretel, she was guilty of _something._ He strode toward the staircase, but Kelso dashed in front of him.

"Fez, hold up. You gotta know about Rhonda—"

"Rhonda?" Fez's pulse tightened. "You know where she is?"

Kelso's eyes flicked left then right, the way they did when he didn't want to say something. "She's... out."

"Out _where?_ "

"Meeting Cadell on the front lines."

"What?" Fez clutched Kelso's shirt. "You let her go out to Red Riding Forest by herself? She doesn't even know where our soldiers are stationed!" He yanked Kelso forward in the hallway. "This is your way of getting rid of her, isn't it? Because you think she took your place!"

"No! I tried to stop her. She—she wouldn't listen!"

Fez's grip on Kelso loosened, "Oh," and his head drooped down. "I am sorry, Kelso. Rhonda can be insistent..." Then his voice shrank to a hushed whisper. "The wolves have the advantage in the forest. It is their environment, and they have the numbers. With the full moon approaching, they will be so much more dangerous." His head perked up, and thanks to the tears clouding his eyes, Kelso's face was a wet blob "You have experience and training. I never would have ordered you to lead otherwise."

"I know, but my heart wouldn't have been in it," Kelso said. "That would've put the army at a serious disadvantage, but Rhonda's heart _is_ in it." He patted Fez's back comfortingly. "You'll see her again, buddy. She took down a bear and all those Trolls. She's like a freakin' Giant! And she's smart, too."

"Yes, she is," Fez said, and Kelso inched closer to him. "Kelso, what are you—"

Kelso's lips landed firmly on Fez's mouth and pecked him. "That's from Rhonda. Only you gotta imagine it with tongue-action 'cause I'm sure that's how she meant it."

Fez's cheeks flushed—from both embarrassment and anguish. A last kiss from his beloved, delivered by his best friend. That was not how he wanted his and Rhonda's tale to finish.


	63. Incinerated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 63  
 **INCINERATED**  


"You _know?_ " Eric said in Fez's suite. "Well, that's just great!" He was clutching the ring through his shirt. The moment Jackie had begun speaking about the curse, the hatred over his heart kindled white-hot. She and Hyde had apparently been possessed by two of Eric's relatives: his grandmother Bernice and his aunt Averill, Penny's mother. Jackie had worked out that Bernice and Averill wove the curse together through Penny, something Eric had wanted to keep to himself.

"Wait, Eric. _You_ know?" Donna said. "Did Penny tell you she—?"

"No," he said. "The ring did."

"The ring?" Jackie glared at him. "My ring is telling you things?"

"Not exactly. More like _feeling_ me things."

"Oh!" Jackie limp-marched to his seat on the bed and jabbed the back of his hand, the one now squeezing the ring. "Did it tell you how we should break the curse?" Jab. "Did it?" Jab, jab. "Speak up!" Jab, jab, jab. "That wolf who ripped out half my thigh tonight, he might've let me go if I'd told him you had the ring. But I didn't want you hurt, so I kept my mouth shut." Jab, jab, jab, jab. "So if you're keeping your mouth shut now about me and Ste—Puddin' Pop, I'll—"

"Sunlight, give him a break," Hyde said. He was sitting on the divan and gesturing for Jackie to step back. "He's doin' us a favor by carrying that thing."

Jackie stopped jabbing Eric's hand, but Donna grasped Jackie's. "Thank you," Donna said, "for protecting him." Jackie nodded and fluffed her hair, but she also squeezed Donna's hand in return.

"Wolf went off to get proof that Grayhead murdered Gretel," Eric said.

Hyde quirked up an eyebrow. "The ear? Good luck to him."

Eric released the ring, but that didn't stop it from burning hatefully over his chest. Whether Wolf managed to retrieve Gretel's ear or not, Eric would be seeing Grayhead sooner rather than later. And unlike his failed attempt at keeping secret who wove the curse, Eric planned on keeping Donna as far from the action as possible.

* * *

Penny seemed to be fighting hard to keep her composure. She paced the war room with her eyes narrow and nostrils flared as her breath sped out of her. She looked like both a bull and the toreador at once in her scarlet cloak. Fez understood why. The news that at least a third of her Red Caps were traitorous could not have been easy to process.

"How dare they question my wisdom!" she said and stared up at the scarlet-draped walls. Fiery patterns blazed across them, messages from Red Caps throughout the Second Kingdom. "My duty as Queen is to keep my citizens safe. Wolves and humans are not meant to mate!"

"If that were so," Fez said, "Eric would not be here."

Penny said nothing and continued pacing. Defeating the conspiracy against her would not be as easy as killing a bull, but Fez hoped it would not result in the loss of her humanity.

* * *

Hyde awoke in his and Jackie's new suite to golden sunlight—and stiff muscles. The divan's cushion was harder than the bed. He'd been forced to sleep there to keep Jackie from doing so. She hadn't let them have sex last night, even though he'd tried to convince her. Now wasn't a time for physical vulnerability, and her leg was a big one.

Escaping death through love had consequences, man. Red Caps said the agony grinding into her nerves would take over a week to go away. Her "coupling" with him would cut that time in half—and by half-again if they did it twice. He'd tolerate two half-hours of agony himself to get rid of her limp, to make her safer. But she'd refused his offer to screw, just as she refused his touch.

"You can't protect me anymore," she'd said last night, "but I can protect you." So she split from him, intending to take the divan, but he reached it first and slept roughly without her.

He stretched now to get the kinks out of his back, but it helped only a little. Kelso, though, would probably wake with the same stiffness. They'd pulled in another divan for him to sleep on. Kelso's offer to share the bed with Jackie had been emphatically rejected.

Hyde glanced over at him. Kelso was still snoring and occasionally smacked his lips. Jackie remained asleep, too, and Hyde trudged over to her. Walking was slow-going. His feet felt like two heavy bags of sand. Maybe he could push another bed into the suite for tonight because the divan had done a number on him.

Jackie didn't stir at his presence. Her eyes stayed closed, and her breath was steady. He swept a finger over her jawline. The brief contact was like peeling back all his skin, exposing his nerves to the air, but the curse wanted them to separate. So he kept stroking Jackie's face until long after his body began to sweat and shake with pain.

Bernice and Averill and maybe even Penny must have believed the worst of him. That he would've abandoned Jackie at the get-go, back when the curse had afflicted her with mood swings. Or that the extra weight the curse put on her would've repulsed him. Or the "burden" of supporting her through blindness and deafness would've been too much, especially for a guy who hated responsibility. But those chicks hadn't counted one thing.

He'd fallen in love with last person he should've ever fallen in love with.

Their love was creepy, man, and unnatural, and it ran too deep to be destroyed by any of the crap the curse threw at them—even the raw, painful throb his body had become by touching her. His finger continued to trace the soft contours of her face. Blinking had started to hurt. He never knew eyelids could get sore.

Jackie rubbed the back of her head against her pillow. She was waking, and a pleased sigh lifted from her throat.

"Mornin'," Hyde said, and a smile rose on her lips.

She clapped his hand over her cheek and nuzzled into his palm. "Morning," she said; then her eyes popped open in horror. "Steven?"

His stomach cramped, and his hand fell away from her face. He dropped to his knees and dry-heaved on the bearskin rug. But convulsing and bile were a pleasure in comparison to the full-body anguish he'd just left behind.

"You idiot!" she said.

"I'm awake!" Kelso shouted.

"Not you. My Puddin' Pop. He was—" she leaned over the side of the bed, "you were touching me!"

"Don't... regret it," Hyde said hoarsely.

"Michael, go rub his back."

Kelso's feet landed heavily on the floor. "Do I have to? I already kissed him the other day, and I kissed Fez last night—for Rhonda"

Jackie's feet landed lightly on the bearskin rug. Hyde's convulsions were growing weaker, and he watched as she hobbled around the room. "Hey, my thigh feels a little better..." she said.

"Let me... kiss you," Hyde said. "It'll feel loads better."

"No. Michael!"

"Fine!" Kelso trudged to Hyde's side, knelt down, and began to rub his back. Hyde didn't fight him off. He was helping calm the nausea. "So..." Kelso said, "we're all gettin' pretty close lately."

Hyde chuckled then coughed as the last bits of bile came up. They were probably all too close, but he couldn't think of five people he trusted more.

* * *

Before breakfast, Eric and Donna left their suite to search for the Traveling mirror. Eric's stomach mourned the meal it had to wait for, but finding their only way home was more important than sating his appetite. He and Donna had ducked inside an unoccupied supply chamber. It was off a second-floor hallway, and small scarlet squares were piled up on shelves. Crystal boxes of needles and spools of sparkling thread sat on shelves against the opposite wall.

"Donna," he whispered, "we'll be more efficient if we split up. You should take the towers. I'll go check the tombs."

"What should I do if I find the mirror?" she whispered.

"Go through it. Go home."

Donna scowled. "I'd never do that. Eric, I could never leave you with Penny and that ring around your neck." She raised her left hand. Then she took his left hand and pressed it against hers. Their wedding rings lined up. "Everything together, all right? If either of us finds the mirror, we find each other."

He nodded, and she gave him a kiss to remember before they parted.

Down in the basement with the cubbies, Eric poked the magic, glowing bricks that opened up the wall. Just like Kelso said, a tunnel led from the passageway to the level below. Illuminating his path was an eerie red light. It emanated from sigils cut into the rock, and the cursed ring burned hotter and hotter as Eric crawled through the tunnel. His discomfort doubled as the rotten stench of death plugged his nose. But he arrived at Averill's tomb, where the hatred inside the ring had first made itself known.

The larger sigils cut into the ceiling cast red light on Averill's coffin. He was glad he didn't understand the sigils' meaning, and he focused on the flagstone floor as he moved across the tomb. Past the coffin were two sets of stairs. One led up to Penny's war room; the other led down to his grandmother's corpse. The iron gate to the downward stairs wasn't locked. Either no one had been down here since Hyde picked it open, or Penny's Red Caps never relocked the gate.

Eric gave it no more thought and began his descent to Bernice's tomb. The mirror was probably down there, but his true purpose at the moment wasn't to find it. His fists clenched tighter as he climbed the stairs. In the darkness, the ring seemed to grow in size until it surrounded his heart. His blood was pumping the ring's malevolence through his body. His fingernails begged to scrape the flesh off someone, and his teeth ached to crack bones; and when the eerie red light reappeared at the bottom of the stairs, he had to pause and reclaim his wits.

What was he going to do? Bash his skull against the stone walls? Hatred was only an emotion. He didn't have to act on it. Hyde had taught him that fact, what felt like years ago, on the morning of Eric's wedding.

With a deep breath, he eased himself off the last step and into the tomb. Bernice's coffin was washed in red, but he didn't approach it. He felt her presence inside it, just as he felt part of her inside the ring.

"Grandma," he said, but his voice was little more than a tremor, "did you... did you die on me out of spite? You know... in the car?"

"Yes, you ungrateful, little shit." The answer came from the ring. "You're too much like your whore mother."

A dry hiss issued from the coffin. He edged closer to it and closer still until he heard, "I'mmm sssssssorrrrrryyyy." He risked a peek inside. His grandmother's body had decayed to an almost unrecognizable state, and her bones seemed be rattling the apology. The sound enshrouded his mind. It cloaked his awareness with a vision of her alive and young...

And happy.

A teenaged Bernice was frolicking in the forest. Her red hair danced behind her as her laughter filled the air, but a young wolf was chasing her. He had a face uncannily similar to Eric's father and brown hair the exact shade as Eric's. His furry tail wagged behind him, and he said, "I'll catch you, Red, and then I'm going to eat you up!"

Bernice turned. Sunlight crowned her head with fire, and she crashed purposely into the wolf's chest. They tumbled onto the grass together, but she retained the advantage by straddling his chest and holding down his arms.

"Not if I eat you first," she said and leaned over him, close enough that their noses touched. "What would your pack say if they knew the 'Big Bad' Rollin had been bested by a girl? And a human girl at that!"

"They'd think you were the most incredible, creamy girl in the Nine Kingdoms," he said, "but you're mine—mated to me for life." Then he growled in a most bizarre way, with an intimacy that made Eric uncomfortable to witness.

"Prove it to me," Bernice said. "Prove to me I'm yours forever," and Rollin's right arm broke free of her grasp. He cupped the back of her head and pulled her down for kiss. A thin braid of scarlet was tied to his wrist. It appeared to be made from Bernice's hair. Was it her pledge to him?

The braid grew into two as the vision shifted. Moonlight illuminated a different part of the woods. A weeping Bernice, older by many years, stood by as Rollin howled in grief.

"It was for the good of the kingdom!" she cried. "The citizenry expected me to marry, and the customs forbade me to choose a wolf as my—"

"You'd already chosen!" Rollin shouted. "We are betrothed to each other—" he covered her heart then his own, "right here!"

"Sometimes the true love of two must be sacrificed for the protection of all."

"Not ours!" he said, and she hid her face.

"The Nine Kingdoms' new-found unity is terribly fragile," she said through her fingers, "like a butterfly just hatched from its cocoon. We fought so hard to defeat the Baleful Warlords. I cannot allow my people to lose their hope now and fall under the rule of someone who would harm them."

"Allow Gretel to rule all of the Second Kingdom—"

Bernice's hands remained shielding her face. "Her part of the realm borders the Trolls' territory. She has enough responsibility keeping peace with them. I cannot add more to her burden."

"Red..." Rollin touched the back of her fingers,"let yourself live your life with me." When she didn't respond, he wrapped his arm around her waist. The light of the moon shone silver in his hair, and he pulled her close. "You don't have to hide your eyes. I have never convinced you of anything against your free will."

"I know, but you are my heart. If I look at you, I won't be able to resist how I feel, and I _must_ resist."

Rollin huffed. "I will take you back to the castle, but I won't give you up. Unless I cause you misery, I will _not_ give you up."

The two scarlet braids tied to his wrist turned into three as the gray-brick walls of Riding Hood Castle replaced the trees of the forest. Bernice and Rollin, yet a few more years older, were making love in a small bedchamber. Eric didn't want to see this, but at least Bernice resembled nothing he recognized as his grandmother—in neither appearance nor manner. This woman was full of love and self-sacrifice.

"I want to leave with you," she cried and gripped the back of Rollin's hair. "I have been without you too long, and I want to leave with you."

But she didn't. A barrage of images flashed through Eric's mind. Rollin was gone, and Bernice was pregnant with an infant already suckling at her breast. A young Penny was sewing scarlet cloth beside her—no, not Penny. Her mother, Averill. And the infant was surely Eric's uncle Paul, which meant Eric had just beheld his own father's conception.

Fortunately, he had no time to contemplate this event. Infant Paul and young Averill vanished. Stone faded back into woods, and Rollin was back, nuzzling Bernice's pregnant belly. A rustling in the bushes perked up his head, and a streak of scarlet disappeared into the forest.

"We have been caught," Rollin growled. "Your husband has been spying on you."

"Run." Bernice uncovered a braid hidden deep within her hair and sliced it off with a knife. She tied it to Rollin's wrist, where it joined the other three. "Go to the Fourth Kingdom. Snow White will keep you safe."

"And who will keep _you_ safe? Our child?"

"I will," she said. "We will meet again, my beloved."

The words echoed in the forest and became a harsh, guttural shout in the cavernous great hall of Riding Hood Castle. "You made love to an animal!" a blond man bellowed. He was wearing a prince's scarlet robes and had Bernice's wrists trapped in his grasp. "You let him inside you and deposit that beast, which you had the audacity to call mine!"

"I am still Queen of this kingdom!" She wrenched herself free and backed off from him. "You are nothing without me, Aurick. I can still rule without you."

"Yes, but the people will not accept a harlot who consorts with wolves." He gestured to the mounted animal heads on the walls. "You might as well have coupled with one of these."

"You have no idea what the people will accept—and neither do I. True love changes many things." She rubbed her belly protectively. "I should have given us a chance—"

"'Us'?" Aurick reached up and caressed the snout of a boar he'd probably killed. "There is no more 'us' for you."

The smell of burnt wood entered the great hall and Eric's nose. A Red Cap—not a girl like those Penny ruled but an adult—presented Aurick with a blackened piece of kindling.

"Your precious 'beloved' no longer exists," Aurick said and didn't hide his smile. "I saw to the deed myself." He pulled a silver wolf whistle from his robes and held it up. "Sustained, repeated blows on this, and he was powerless to fight me. I dragged him to a tree and tied every knot lashing him to it. I added every branch and leaf to his pyre."

The wolf whistle was dangling on a chain. Bernice didn't struggle as he put it over her head. "I as good as sounded his doom," she whispered and clutched the whistle against her heart.

"Oh, how he cried for you as I lit the fire beneath his feet," Aurick continued. "And he kept on howling for you and his 'son' as he burned away into nothing... except for the one piece of him I spared before it turned into ash."

He touched the boar's snout again, and the smell of charred flesh overwhelmed that of the wood. Another Red Cap carried in the severed, blistered hand of a man with the wrist attached. Four braids of scarlet, unmarred by the melted flesh beneath, were tied to it.

Aurick took the hand and shoved it at Bernice. She caught it and stared down at the scarlet braids. "I told him to run!" she screamed. " _I told him to run!_ "

"I did love you once, and you are the mother of my children," Aurick said, "which is why I will spare your life and keep your secret. But the monster growing inside you must be slain. As soon as you expel the beast, I will break its neck and burn its remains. Then we can live happily ever after."

Bernice peered up at him without tears. Hatred blazed in her eyes, but Aurick didn't seem to notice. "Yes, I would like that," she said after a moment. "To live happily ever after."

The great hall wavered and transformed into a crowded supply closet. A very pregnant Bernice, the infant Paul, and the young Averill were huddled around their purplish reflections, shining back at them from a Traveling mirror. Bernice slid up a triskele carved into in the frame, and dazzling rays of white light shot out of the glass. They dispersed into the image of a mountain Eric recognized as Mt. Hump.

"But I don't want to go, Mama!" Averill said. She couldn't have been older than seven.

Bernice stroked the back of Averill's blonde hair. "It will be an adventure." Then she took Averill's hand. "But we must hurry!"

"No!" Averill slipped free and burst out of the closet. "Papa! Papa!"

Paul began to cry, and Bernice moved toward the open closet door. Her body tensed as if she'd dash after Averill, but the girl had run too far away, and Bernice retreated back to the mirror. Wordlessly, she stepped into the glass with Paul, and they vanished.

"Here, Papa, here!" Averill's clopping footsteps vibrated in the hallway. She made it to the closet first. Prince Aurick was at least thirty seconds behind her. "Mama?" Averill stared at the mirror. Reflected in the glass was a scarlet dot traveling the mountainside. Averill grabbed the mirror's golden frame with her tiny fingers. "Come back, Mama! Come back!"

She shook the frame, and the triskele slid back into place. Purple-black light swallowed up Mt. Hump. Desperately, she tried to turn the mirror back on, but being so young, she didn't seem sure which symbol in the frame had done it—or if a symbol had been the culprit at all.

Aurick finally reached the closet, panting. "What... what is it, my darling? Do you know where... where your mother is hiding?"

Averill didn't answer. Grief and fear must have turned her mute. Her blue eyes grew liquid as the vision propelled Eric into the future, and they emptied out into Lake Michigan. Eric's Grandpa Al was chasing a three-year-old Paul across Point Beach. A pregnant Bernice, meanwhile, was building sandcastles with a redheaded toddler. "Red, honey," she said, "dig. Don't bang."

Red had a small metal shovel in his hand, and he slapped the sand with it defiantly. Bernice didn't seem to mind, though. She was smiling and stroking Red's hair. For a moment, she seemed as happy as she'd been with Rollin... until Grandpa Al ran past them with Paul.

"Red, listen to your mother," Al said, "or I'll put that shovel up your—"

Bernice covered Red's tiny ears with her hands. "Albert, language!"

But Grandpa Al was a veteran of the First World War. He'd served in the navy, and if Red's language as an adult was salty, Al's was an ocean. Swear words drifted like flotsam on the surface of his speech. He and Paul dashed past Bernice and Red again, but he scooped a giggling Paul into his arms and tossed him into the sky—

Which shattered into Grandpa Al and Bernice's house in Two Rivers, Wisconsin. Eric had seen Red's pictures of it. Four boys were opening Christmas presents, the twelve-year-old Paul, eleven-year-old Red, nine-year-old Jerry, and five-year-old Marty. Bernice and Al were snuggled together on the couch while Christmas songs played on an old radio. She rubbed his knee as he sang along to "Santa Claus is Coming to Town".

Some kind of love was in her eyes for him, but it nowhere near matched the passion she had for Rollin, and even that warmth drained from her when, years later, Al died from a heart attack. She seemed to wither like a prune as her life went by. Her children left her, one-by-one, to pursue their own happiness. Red fell in love with Eric's mother, but not just any kind of love. Kitty was his beloved, and recognizing this hardened Bernice's heart into a stone—the pit inside her shriveled-fruit of an existence.

Eric wanted to reach out to her, to give back what she'd lost, but her skin burst into orange flame, and that fire split into a thousand torches.

"Burn them down." A barely adult Averill was standing in the woods. Her eyes were cold, but the hatred pumping through her heart was as hot as the fires raging in Red Riding Forest. "No female wolves are to survive, including their children!" she said, and Red Caps flowed from her like blood into the trees. Were Grayhead's mate and children in those woods? Was this when the Civil War began?

Eric received no answers. The burning forest erupted in howls, and he felt the urge to howl himself, but the marble floor of Fez's ballroom hardened over the dirt. Curtained balconies floated onto the treetops, and a domed glass ceiling crystallized beneath the sky. Hyde and Jackie were on the dais with Fez. Snow White's ring was in Hyde's hand. Its blue diamond glittered, but Eric's focus was drawn elsewhere, to a woman cloaked in scarlet. To his cousin Penny.

A hood concealed her face, but within the shadow a dark light glowed. She whispered words Eric didn't understand. Her fingertips traced patterns in the air, and the dark light—the curse—shot into the ring as Jackie slid her finger into it. From there, the curse traveled along Hyde and Jackie's veins as if a cannon fuse had been ignited, and it exploded inside their hearts.

They didn't seem to notice, but the detonation of hate blasted Eric back into his grandmother's tomb. He was shaking in the eerie red light, along with Bernice's rattling, apologetic bones.

* * *

After breakfast, Michael was called into the war room, and Steven insisted he and Jackie go with him. Jackie wanted nothing to do with the violence occurring in the Second Kingdom. The patterns lighting the war-room walls frightened her, even though she didn't understand their meaning. To her mind, they meant death—Big Rhonda's and a host of lives Jackie had no connection to, but they were still lives. She ached for Steven to hold her, to have his strength and love take the fear from her heart. He kept offering to do just that, but with every offer, she moved farther away.

If she did let him touch her, he'd eventually end up screaming. The Red Caps in the room were working hard, sewing the commands of Penny, Fez, and Kelso into cloth, and if Steven screamed, it would distract everyone. His pain would make Jackie cry, and if she let out any more tears, she'd begin to scream herself. Her self-control was tenuous at best. Her leg hurt worse than she ever imagined possible, like invisible, burning hands were plucking at her nerves, just as they would a harp's strings.

She began to sing ABBA songs to herself, to block out the war-speak in the room. She gazed at Steven's face with its warm, sky-blue eyes and the soft, expressive lips she longed to kiss. They really would make a perfect singing duo. Maybe someone in the Nine Kingdoms could sell them a singing potion because as dulcet as her own voice was, it couldn't hold a note. And Steven's normally strong, sexy voice was as flimsy as a cobweb when it sang.

Regardless, she happily fantasized about their world tour together—until Michael broke off from Penny and Fez. "The wolves are being pushed back at the Belt," Michael said, "the border between the north and south kingdoms. So far, no packs have squeezed through the ranks, but Red Caps further south say bigger numbers are coming."

"Super," Steven said and stretched his arms above him. He cracked his back then stretched his neck and shoulders. He'd been doing that a lot this morning, stretching.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Jackie said.

"Nothin'. Just feeling stiff." He cracked his knuckles. "Sleeping on the divan didn't do me any favors."

"Michael's not complaining, and he slept on a divan, too."

Steven shrugged, or maybe it was another stretch. "He's used to sleeping alone. My body twists into strange positions without you there."

"Sure..." she said, but she wasn't sure. Not at all.

* * *

The west tower of the castle had too many damn stairs. Donna's legs were wobbly, and she was only halfway up. She'd never realized how big towers could be, not just tall but wide. Eric really should have been the one to search them. His wolfy strength outmatched her human stamina, but wandering around in creepy tombs was probably worse.

She climbed to another landing and had to take a break. Her muscles were becoming mush, so she peeked into the hallway. It seemed to be free of Red Caps. Not all of the floors had been clear, but she took her opportunities as they came. One of the doors lining the hallway opened to a privy. Another opened into a supply closet. Mops and buckets and shields cluttered it, and she was about to close the door when she caught a glimpse of red hair. She moved herself slightly to the right, and the red hair moved with her. At first she thought it belonged to a Red Cap, but it was her own hair she was seeing, haloed with purple and reflecting back at her.

She shoved a heavy shield out of the way, and her whole body was reflected in a glass glittering with purple light. The Traveling mirror. She'd found it, but she had to be certain. Her hand ran over the gold frame and found the piece carved into a triskele. She glided it into the "on" position.

Blinding white light shone at her then melted into the familiar greens and browns of Mt. Hump. She allowed herself only a second to gaze at it before gliding the triskele back into place. She replaced the shield in front of the mirror, backed out of the closet and shut its door.

Relief flooded her body as she went toward the stairwell. No need to climb the twice-as-tall east tower. She just had to count the flights of stairs to this floor—and pray the Red Caps didn't move the mirror before she could tell Eric and Fez about it.

Seventeen flights down, and she was back on the castle's ground floor and standing in a wide hallway. Her legs had turned from mush to liquid, and walking on them was an interesting exercise. Lack of food didn't help either, and the ground lurched beneath her feet.

"Donna?" Eric dashed to her side, and she half-hugged, half-collapsed into him.

"I found it," she whispered. "The mirror. It's in a supply closet."

"That's great," he said but sounded anything but happy.

She straightened up and gratefully took the bodily support he offered. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." His stomach was rumbling. At least, she hoped it was his stomach. "So," he said, "the mirror?"

"We need food," she said, and he didn't argue.

The main dining room was located between the castle's west and east wings. They were supposed to meet Fez there, and she led Eric forward on liquid legs. His palm sweated against hers, and his breath was heavy. The full moon was only a night away. It had to be affecting him, and in the dining room he remained standing when she sat at the table. He was staring out into space—or at something she couldn't see—and the pair of gray-haired attendants on duty snickered.

"Could you please bring my husband some—no, _a lot_ of bacon?" Donna said to them. "I know we're late for breakfast, really late, and it's too early for lunch. So I'll have whatever's available."

The attendants bowed and left through a side door. Eric, though, continued to stand with a glassy-eyed stare.

"Hey," Donna grasped his wrist and shook it, "Earth to Eric."

"What?" His head jerked toward her, and his eyes flashed orange.

Her fingers sprang off him. "Wh—why don't you sit down? I'm sure your food will—"

He turned her chair so that she faced him. "Man, would you stop being so clingy?" Then his hands gripped the chair's arms, trapping her. "I've got more important things than your feelings to care about right now, okay?" The orange in his eyes had faded back to green, but the rumbling started up again, not from his stomach but from his throat. He was growling at her.

"Eric," she said evenly, "let go of my chair."

His growling grew louder. "Make me."

* * *

Fez, and Kelso were done strategizing in the war room and off to reunite with Forman and Donna. Hyde and Jackie went with them. News of the mirror would've been swell, but Hyde had little hope of that. The castle was huge, man, and unless Penny _wanted_ the mirror to be found, it would probably remain hidden.

"And you want me to trust you?" Donna's voice reached them before they reached the dining room. She was shouting, and Fez, Kelso, and Jackie all rushed ahead. Hyde tried to do the same, but his muscles refused to cooperate. He was stiff all over. His reflexes had dulled. Not mentally, but his body was slow to react, as if he were swimming in molasses.

"Come on!" Jackie was waiting for him. The dining room's double doors had closed, but she stood by them and gestured for him to hurry up.

He made it to her eventually, and they entered the dining room together. Forman was sitting at the table and stuffing his mouth with bacon. Donna was standing as far from him as possible, face flushed and eyes wet.

"What's goin' on?" Hyde said.

"Eric's being an ass, that's what!" She crossed her arms defensively. "I don't care how moody the full moon makes him. He can't go around and play-assault his wife!"

"He hit you?" Hyde went to Donna and examined her for signs of bruising.

"No, he was just pretending," she said, and his stiff fingers gingerly touched her neck. "Playing, but it still scared the hell out of me."

"Oh, yeah?" Forman glanced up at her. "Well, if you actually trusted me instead of pretending like you are, then you'd know I'd _never_ hurt you."

"Hard to tell when you're growling at me and gnashing your teeth like—"

"An animal?" Forman stood from the table and headed for the double doors. "Nice, Donna. Real nice." He slammed his hands into the doors and shoved them open; then he disappeared into the hallway.

"Oh, like hell you're walking out on me," Donna said and followed him.

Fez sat down in Forman's abandoned seat, "This is no good," and ate from Forman's plate of bacon.

"What's the matter with him?" Jackie said.

"Whatever it is, we gotta get Eric out of here," Kelso said. "This place is messing with his head."

Jackie exchanged a look with Hyde. The curse wouldn't let him say what was in his head, but she expressed it for him. "Not this place, Michael. The _ring._ "

Fez sighed and stopped eating Forman's bacon. "Happily ever after is never given freely, my friends. It must always be earned."

Hyde extended his arm toward Jackie. If she touched him, even for a freakin' second, it would give his mind a little peace. Physical pain he could handle. Being without her skin and heartbeat—that was killing him. She appeared to see it, or maybe she felt the same way, because her fingers closed around his palm. The contact was as tender as it was torturous, but he endured it gratefully and brought her wrist to his lips. She allowed him one anguished peck before ripping herself from him.

"I'm sorry," she mouthed.

"Not your fault," he mouthed back and rubbed his heart.

She seemed to get his meaning. A wistful smile took over her face, and she rubbed her heart, too.

* * *

Eric had smelled his father again. He'd smelled him in the west tower, and he smelled him on the attendants in the dining room. The scent was growing stronger as he pursued it into the east wing. Donna's footsteps were chasing after him, but he was much too fast for her to catch up. Her interference was the last thing he needed

In a narrow and badly-lit hallway stood a statue of Prince Aurick. Behind it was a stairwell leading down. Eric flew down the stairs, feet barely touching the stone steps, and the air grew danker the deeper he went. Eventually, the staircase let out into the bowels of the castle—the dungeon. Stale scents mixed with that of his father and those of former prisoners. Many of them had been wolves.

The dungeon was free of Red Caps, but Eric wasn't alone down here. A snorty kind of breathing echoed against the damp, gray-brick walls. He sped past thick-barred cells, empty save for manacles and fetters, and the snort-breathing grew louder until he found its source. Asleep inside a cell, with his face covered in pink Troll Dust, was Red Forman.


	64. Double Petrified

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 64  
 **DOUBLE PETRIFIED**  


Eric clamped his fists around the cell's thick bars. "Dad?" he said, but Red didn't stir from his snore-filled sleep. He was lying on a stone bench inside the cell. "Dad?" Eric said louder, but Red still didn't wake. The Troll dust was too strong. Its cloyingly sweet odor made Eric wrinkle his nose, but that was his only movement. He stared at his father, unable to do anything else but wonder what the hell Red was doing here.

Only when a fresh scent arrived did he let go of the bars. Donna had arrived, and he turned around when her footsteps reached him. "Eric? Oh, my God—Red!" She ran to the bars and clenched them as he had. "Eric, what's going on?"

"Family reunion," a cheerless female voice answered. More fresh scents entered the dungeon from the opposite side, and scarlet fabric whisked over the gray-brick walls. Penny was here with several Red Caps, and they strode to Red's cell. Penny's brow was furrowed. Her lips curled in a snarl, and she looked quite unlike herself.

"What kind of 'family reunion'?" Donna said. She took Eric's hand and partially hid behind his back. "What benefit could Red possibly give you? His war experience? He fought with guns, not magic. He knows nothing about any of this."

"That, my dear, is precisely what must be changed." Penny gazed between the cell's bars with eyes that held no warmth. "It's time for Red to understand his legacy, what his mother left behind to bring him into this world." She moved her gaze to Eric and clasped his shoulder. Her touch was like frost, but the hatred in the cursed ring ignited over his chest. "Red must also finally see his son as he is: a strong, decisive man who can be a _leader_ of men."

Her grip on Eric's shoulder tightened, sending cold into his muscle and bone, but the hatred in the ring grew hotter. It threatened to devour his heart, and, slowly, his thumb edged a different ring off his finger.

"The wolves can be crushed," Penny said, "but only if you make your choice. Eric, will you rule the Second Kingdom with me? Will you join me in bringing glory back to our shattered realm?"

He glanced behind himself at Red. Then he met Donna's silent, pleading face. "Yes," he said, and with a final push, his wedding ring fell to the dank, stone ground.

* * *

Donna scooped up Eric's wedding ring before the Red Caps grabbed ahold of her. They were only children and half her size, but their gloves were dusted in Wolfsbane powder. The shock of increased sensation allowed them to shove her into Red's cell.

"Eric!" she shouted. "ERIC!" but he didn't seem to hear her. Penny was ushering him from the dungeon. Her cloak billowed out behind her, swallowing him in a cloud of scarlet.

Red continued to snore on the stone bench, and Donna tried to rouse him. She grasped his arms and shook him, but her Wolfsbane-affected skin couldn't bear the contact. The hair on his arms felt like a thousand needles. She'd just have to wait until the Troll dust wore off him.

She moved across the cell and plunked down on a stone block. Eric's wedding ring had grown hot in her palm, and she touched it to her over-sensitive lips. "I wasn't pretending," she whispered. "Unlike you... I wasn't pretending."

Fez had carried Eric's half-eaten plate of bacon out of the dining room. He was going to the war room, he'd said, to communicate with Red Caps on the front lines, to learn if they or his army had caught sight of Rhonda. Jackie didn't know how he stayed sane with all he had to deal with, but she and Steven had plenty to deal with, too, and they weren't crazy... yet.

They'd elected to stay in the dining room with Michael until lunch, and she forced herself to sit in the chair farthest from Steven. Her pulse was racing, but not because of the pain in her leg. Miraculously, it had dulled from her last shared touch with him. Not having his scruffy, overgrown sideburns rubbing against her cheeks or his gentle fingertips tracing over her ear—that had driven her heart into a panic. Since their relationship began, they'd communicated through touch. The curse had taken that from them, just as it had stolen so much else.

Soon, though, attendants brought in a meal of roast squab and ginger-poached pears. Jackie cut into the meat and ate one bite; then she carried her plate over to Steven. "We're feeding each other," she said and sat next to him. "Just be careful."

He speared a chunk of squab onto his fork, "Smart chick," and held it in front of her mouth. She took the meat into her mouth, thankful they still had ways of being together.

"You think Brooke'll ever feed me pigeon?" Michael said from across the table.

Steven's tongue pulled a bite of poached pear into his mouth. "Annoy her bad enough, and she'll cram a _flock_ of pigeons down your throat."

Michael grinned. "Awesome. I can do that."

By the end of lunch, Jackie's pulse had calmed down, but her shoulders were tight. Holding out the fork to Steven repeatedly must have cramped them up. She stretched her arms above her head, but one of Steven's amazing massages would've been more effective—and fun.

"Man, I'm exhausted," Steven said. "Last night kicked the shit outta me." He cracked his back for the tenth time that day. "I gotta take a nap. You okay with that, Sunlight?"

"What else do we have to do?" she said. "I'm sick of looking at all these animal faces anyway. I mean, who wants pig snout on their wall?"

Michael shook his head. "Not me. I don't like it when my food stares back."

The three of them left the dining room, but Steven was moving slowly, as if he'd been drenched in liquid cement. Michael tried to get him to go faster, taunting, "Last one to the stairs is Pam Macy's used panties."

"Pam Macy doesn't wear panties," Steven said.

Jackie scrunched up her face. "I hate that you know that."

"I did it for you. To get you and Kelso back together at the damn prom."

"I'm sure it was an act of selfless heroism, Puddin'."

He arched an eyebrow.

She giggled. He was adorable when his eyebrow argued his point, but she said, "You keep doing that, and your face'll freeze that way."

They— _eventually_ —arrived at the staircase in the great hall. Michael sailed past her to the second floor landing and waited as Steven began his sluggish climb. Jackie waited much closer, only a few stairs up from him. Like a little kid whose legs were too short, Steven planted both feet on one step before going to the next.

His torpidity was agonizing, and she had the urge to yank him up. Instead, she performed an encouraging cheer. "C.L.I.M.B. Climb those stairs and get to me!"

"Tryin'," he said, but he'd stopped moving entirely.

"Baby?" She went down a stair. Steven's skin was turning gray. She risked grasping his hand, and his face contorted slowly in pain. It didn't change when she let him go. She grabbed his hand again, but his graying face remained in the same expression as before. "Steven?" she said but received no response. He didn't vomit, didn't even blink. She squeezed him tighter, and the soft flesh of his palm hardened beneath her fingers. "STEVEN!"

He was turning into stone.

"Michael!" she shouted, and Michael charged down the stairs. "Do something! Do something!" but it was too late. Steven's skin was cold and smooth and completely gray.

"I'll—I'll get Fez," Michael said and ran down the rest of the stairs, but she barely heard him.

She was cupping Steven's stone cheeks. Her own were wet with tears. "Steven. Steven, no..."

* * *

Kelso barreled into the war room. Penny wasn't inside, but he found Fez, who was glaring at the scarlet-draped walls. Glowing patterns were blazing across them, and Fez had his hands buried in his hair. The chords in his neck were strained, and the surrounding Red Caps sewed into their fabric swatches as fast as ever.

"Fez," Kelso said, "you gotta—"

Fez didn't look at him. "Rhonda has arrived on the front lines, but rogue Red Caps have directed the wolves to an unguarded pass." He was speaking quickly, in a barely controlled blur of words. "They are bypassing the direct route to this castle, taking a longer one, and it is splitting my forces from Penny's. We need more men."

"And Hyde needs your attention," Kelso said. "Remember the World-Famous Golden River Gold Fish? Replace 'gold' with 'stone'."

"Ai, no..." Fez turned to the Red Caps and clapped his hands once. A dozen scarlet-hooded heads peeked up at him. "Send word to Penny that I must leave."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the Red Caps said and resumed sewing.

Kelso led Fez down several meandering hallways until they reached the great hall. Up the stairs, Hyde's stone body was where he left it. Jackie's hands were cradling Hyde's gray face, and her lips were frozen in a kiss against his.

"Jackie?" Kelso said and poked her cheek. It was gray and hard. "Oh, no! She's gone all 'statue,' too Does it mean the curse won? That they're dead?"

"I was gold once, and I'm still alive," Fez said. "And I still love Rhonda, so the curse has not yet succeeded."

"Yeah, and I still love Brooke, so... what're they supposed to do? How can they break the curse now that they're statues?"

Fez rubbed his chin and studied Hyde and Jackie's kissing, stone faces. "My grandmother was as good as dead, poisoned by her stepmother's apple, but the love of my grandfather brought her back to life. If Jackie and Hyde's love for each other is strong enough, they'll find away. But we must move them to a safe place."

"Oh!" Kelso's hand shot up, an old habit from elementary school—because teachers so rarely called on him. "I know where!"

"Really?"

"Yup!" Kelso was grinning. "And I also know where we can get more men to fight the wolves."

* * *

Penny had brought Eric to the top of the east tower, to a chamber lit by sconces and lavishly decorated. Tapestries hung on the walls of forest scenes, of a young Bernice in her Red Riding Hood cloak, and one depicting a shoreline—maybe Atlantic Beach in Florida, where Penny used to live with their uncle Paul. The chamber also had a golden throne facing a large window, the shimmering one Eric had spotted from the grounds below. It was shimmering now, obscuring any view outside with bright ripples of color.

"Go on," Penny said. "Sit down." She was breathing heavily and leaning against the wall. "I don't know about you, but the climb up here always takes a lot out of me."

Eric plunked down on the cushioned throne, and the ripples in the window gave way to Red Riding Hood Forest. Not just a snatch of the forest was visible but the whole of it—both the green-topped northern woods and the candy-laden southern kingdom, the reddish foothills leading to Penny's castle and the bright lights of Needles. But the forest was also teeming with what appeared to be brown and black insects. They swarmed through wilderness, and he wanted a closer look.

The window obliged, seemingly in response to his thoughts. His stomach lurched as the view surged into the forest, pushing past thousands of trees. He had the sensation of falling, as if he were on a Fun Land ride, and he gripped the throne's arms to keep himself steady.

Finally, when the window settled on a portion of forest, his mind took a moment to register what it was seeing. The insects weren't insects at all but _wolves_ still in their human form, and they were carrying a casket on their shoulders—with Gretel's body inside it.

"The wolves will be here by tomorrow," Penny said. Her icy fingers held onto the back of the throne and chilled Eric's ears. "They will kill my civilians and the Red Caps loyal to me. Then they will multiply and take over the Nine Kingdoms. Not even the Ice Queen will be able to stop them... unless you give me what I need."

"You have my loyalty," Eric said. "You're family—"

"No..." Her fingertips scraped his neck and coated his skin with invisible frost. Then they went lower, unwelcomingly lower, to his shirt collar. "You wear Snow White's ring over your heart. Hyde and Jackie entrusted it to you."

His breath froze in his chest. How did she know that?

She moved in front of him and bent forward, and she clutched the throne's arms. She had him trapped, the same way he'd trapped Donna in the dining room. "Show it to me," she said.

He grasped the chain around his neck and pulled the ring free from his shirt. The blue diamond dangled in front of Penny's face—or was it her mother's? The expression on it seemed to be a blend, but her eyes were communicating one feeling he could very much relate to. _Hunger._

"Three generations of Formans pooled their magic to make this curse," she said in a half-whisper. "The ring contains powerful magic of its own, which amplified ours. Love is the blood that runs through this land."

Eric nodded hesitantly. Fez had said the same thing, but it seemed so long ago.

"Once Hyde and Jackie's love is broken," Penny-Averill continued, "the land will need something else to fuel its magic. I..." she smiled at him, a craving, dangerous smile. " _We_ will have the power to reshape all the kingdoms into whatever we want."

She reached for the ring. He didn't try to stop her, but she gasped then yanked her hand away. Had it burned her—without her even touching it?

"You still don't completely trust me," she said, and her voice was gentle and coaxing, "but you will. In time, you'll see that giving me the ring is the only way to save innocent blood. And to keep any more hearts from being broken."

She leaned in and pressed her cold lips to his forehead, but the heat inside the ring kept him from shuddering. The ring's fire seemed different now, blazing with just as much hate—and a hint of something he understood far better, something he didn't dare concentrate on.

He dropped the ring back inside his shirt, and Penny-Averill withdrew from him, not frowning, not smiling. Just craving.

"The ring belongs to you," she said, "but what's inside belongs to both of us... and you'll share it with me when the time is right."

* * *

Kelso was guarding Jackie and Hyde's stone bodies on the stairs, waiting for Fez to return from the stables. Fez had gone off to find a wheelbarrow or a cart, something to carry their friends in, but attendants both young and old kept stopping by and asking Kelso nosy questions.

"King Fez commissioned statues of Jackie and Hyde," Kelso told them. "Sculpted as a gift to Queen Riding Hood the Third. It's called 'Cursed Love'."

The attendants asking usually sighed dreamily or put their hands over their hearts. "Being cursed is so romantic," was a typical response, but Kelso didn't care as long as they left him—and his friends—alone.

A dozen or so attendants later, Fez arrived with a wooden cart covered in straw. "We have to separate them from each other," he said. " _Carefully._ " He climbed the stairs to Jackie and wrapped his arms around her stone waist. Then he dragged her up a stair and away from Hyde. "Take him, but don't break off any of his fingers or anything else. If he ever becomes flesh again, whatever parts are missing in stone won't be there as flesh either."

"Got it." Kelso grabbed Hyde around the stomach. "Jackie'd kill me if his wang broke off."

He brought Hyde down the stairs one step at a time, setting him down gingerly on each before moving to the next. It was a slow process, as slow as Hyde had been climbing up this staircase. Fortunately, he'd made it up only four steps before turning to stone.

"Man, he's as heavy as a statue," Kelso said when he and Hyde reached the bottom.

"Yes..." Fez said. "Help me with Jackie."

Kelso rushed back up the steps and supported Jackie's top half while Fez carried her legs. They carried her to the bottom of the staircase and placed her next to Hyde. "How should we put them in the cart?" Kelso said.

"Gently." Fez took a thick blanket out of the cart and draped it over the stairs' bannister. Then he and Kelso hefted Jackie and Hyde each into the cart, arranging them so they lay on their backs. The straw seemed to pad them nicely. "Jackie, Hyde, I am so sorry," Fez said and concealed them under the blanket.

Together, he and Kelso pushed the cart through the great hall. The Red Caps stationed at the doors questioned them, but Kelso said, "He's gotta distract himself for an hour from the war. He's, uh... gardening!"

"Yes." Fez nodded. "Queen Riding Hood gave me permission to start a candy garden."

"Oh, how wonderful!" one of the Red Caps said.

"I'm so glad!" the other Red Cap said. "I love gumdrops," and they let Fez and Kelso through to the castle grounds.

Fez and Kelso rolled the cart back to the stables and loaded Hyde and Jackie into a straw-cushioned wagon. The cart was going with them, too, and they secured it to the wagon far from Hyde and Jackie's stone bodies. Then they yoked the wagon to two horses and mounted the driver's box.

The horses clopped forward and out of the stables, and as they passed the castle gates, Kelso slipped his arm around Fez's shoulders. This would probably be their last adventure together, but what a way to go.

* * *

Donna wiped her cheeks. She was through with crying. She didn't know exactly how long she'd sat in the cell while Red snored on the stone bench, but it must have been hours—and Kelso must have been the one who'd brought Red here, working under Penny's magical influence. That would explain his encounter with the mirror yesterday and his fuzzy memory of it.

"But why?" Donna said out loud. "'Family reunion'? I don't buy it..."

"Donna?" Red's eyes fluttered open, but a cloud of pink Troll dust enveloped his face, and he fell back asleep.

Red Caps, two of them, had entered the dungeon. They opened the cell's iron bars and deposited a small wooden table and two wooden chairs inside. "You'll be fed soon," they said before leaving. Donna could have attempted to escape, but she didn't want a face full of Troll dust.

She fumbled with Eric's wedding ring in her pants' pocket and stood over Red's sleeping body. He had undermined Eric his whole life, planting poisonous seeds in his heart that were now coming into bloom. Hyde was right. How could Eric accept the man he was when Red always told him it wasn't good enough?

"This is your fault," she said to Red's snoring face. "You pressured him and pressured him until he didn't know who he was anymore." He reacted with a snort, and she crouched by the stone bench and squeezed his limp hand. "This is your fault, and you have to make it better."

* * *

Hyde awoke in complete darkness. Darkness of the eyes, of his heart. It filled him with a numbness that was familiar and safe. No need to move, man.

He was going to stay here.


	65. Expulsion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 65  
 **EXPULSION**  


Through the top-most window of the east tower, the moon was shining over Red Riding Hood Forest, over the wolves swarming in from the wilds. Tomorrow night, the moon would be completely full, turning the wolves into their animal forms and making them nearly unstoppable. The hunger coursing through Eric's own blood was growing stronger by the hour, augmented by the hate-filled ring dangling over his heart. Never in his life had he craved so much, but he had to wait, impatiently wait for the moon to be full.

He reached toward the window, wanting to touch that glowing temptress in the sky, and his hand passed through the glass as it would water. He yanked his hand back, but it wasn't wet.

"Be careful, Eric," Penny said, "or your whole body could tumble into the forest." She was slightly out of breath and standing at the top of the tower stairs, having made the climb at a leisurely pace. He'd heard her faint footsteps starting twenty minutes ago. "It's a Scrying Glass," she moved to the golden throne behind him, "a gift from the Elf Queen when the Five Great Ladies—including our grandmother—united the Nine Kingdoms."

"Were you spying on us?" he said. His muscles had tensed, from his jaw to his toes. She was too close to him. Her breath froze his ear, but he couldn't step away from the moon.

"Oh, don't sound so put-out. The Glass allowed me to send Red Caps to your aid, after Grayhead's pack had ambushed you. If it weren't for me..." her icy fingers eased over his shoulder, "your friends would've been long-dead."

"Thank you," he said—and meant it.

She spoke into his cheek. "That's better." Then she released his shoulder and stood by the window. "But the Glass does far more than let us peep over the Second Kingdom."

She lowered her scarlet hood over her face, gripped the window sill, and stuck her head through the magic glass. What she said next, he couldn't hear, but the wolves all stopped as one in the wilderness. They peered up at her, and their orange eyes flashed like thousands of fireflies.

She pulled her head back into the tower, laughing.

"They heard you," he said.

"They did more than that. They saw my face as they would the moon in the sky." She took a pair of leather gloves from the folds of her cloak and put them on. The next moment, an indigo Wolfsbane pellet was in her hand, and Eric bolted for the stairs. He hadn't smelled the pungent odor of the poison on her. She must have concealed it with Fairywing powder. "Relax, Eric. It's not for you."

She brought back her arm and flung the Wolfsbane through the window. He returned to her side as the sight in the Glass shifted from a bird's-eye-view to a close-up on the ground. The indigo pellet burst on the nape of a wolf's neck, and he dropped to the dirt, dead.

Eric's stomach plummeted past his feet. "Oh, God—" but Penny wasn't the only one who'd killed that wolf. It had been Averill, too. The satisfied expression on her face, the curl of her lip...

Penny-Averill removed the gloves from her hands and stashed them back inside her cloak. "If I could kill all the wolves this way, I would, but it's inefficient. Even if I were to pour a thousand Wolfsbane pellets through the Scrying Glass, what guarantee would I have they'd hit more than a few wolves? No, I'd need to blanket the forest floor in Wolfsbane. Hundreds of thousands of pellets would be needed, and in the whole of the Second Kingdom, there aren't that many. Not even if you add all the different strengths together."

"Why—" a hard lump had formed in Eric's throat, and he swallowed, "why not just take out Grayhead?"

"I've tried, but he's too elusive. The moment I think I've found him, he disappears."

He nodded, but Grayhead would show himself soon enough. He was too hungry to remain hidden for long, and what he hungered for was the cursed ring, spewing hatred against wolves—against love—unceasingly into Eric's heart.

Fez and Kelso had arrived at the glimmering, Elf-protected bubble of Red Riding Hood Forest. They parked their horse-driven wagon outside the curtain of light. The brightness of it competed with the moon, and their eyes had no trouble seeing in the night. Kelso's idea to bring Jackie and Hyde here was an excellent one, and Fez would miss his moments of brilliance.

They hauled the straw-laden cart from the equally straw-laden wagon. Then they began the task of transferring Hyde and Jackie's stone bodies, but as Kelso laid Hyde's upper half onto the cart, he blurted, "Oops!"

"What did you do?" Fez said and carefully set down Hyde's stone legs and feet.

"Nothing." Kelso darted from the cart to the wagon. "Let's take care of Jackie."

Fez stared at him suspiciously, but once Jackie was safely inside the cart, he and Kelso rolled her and Hyde into the curtain of light. On the other side was a luminous glade. Every wildflower and blade of grass glowed with magic. From a nearby pond, sparkles drifted into the sky like stars, and Fez took a moment to soak in the beauty. He'd known of this place's existence but never entered. He wouldn't have been able to. Being in love was the requirement for entry, and he hadn't fallen in love until he met Rhonda in Point Place.

"Seems weird being here," Kelso said. "You know, with the war only a few villages away."

"Yes... and my Rhonda." Fez couldn't stop thinking about her. She was out there fighting, trying to hold the wolves back. He wished she were safe inside this bubble with him.

Kelso gestured to the east, to the trees surrounding the glade. "A good spot through there, buddy."

They pushed the cart into the glittering woods and, after a minute's walk, emerged to a meadow. Far more flowers grew in the grass here and of different kinds than in the glade, including marigolds and violets and lavender. Rhonda would have loved it, especially the gazebo refracting moonlight into rainbows across the meadow.

No, Rhonda would love it when Fez brought her here. Because his Mashed Potato was going to be fine. He'd see her again.

"Let's bring 'em to that patch of yellow and purple flowers," Kelso said. "Jackie and Hyde had some good sex there... I kinda spied on them."

"Next time, invite me to watch," Fez said, but rolling the cart through the meadow wasn't easy, and they stopped when the ride jostled Hyde and Jackie too much for comfort. They laid Hyde on the grass and flowers first, but a chunk of hair was missing from his stone scalp. Fez hadn't spotted it before. "Kelso! You broke him!"

"No—no. I just gave him a haircut. He needed one."

"Ai... you gave him a partial lobotomy."

"It was an accident! He's heavy!"

Fez sighed and went back to the cart. He grasped Jackie's top half, and Kelso took her legs. They lowered her beside Hyde, but at the last second, Jackie slipped from Fez's fingers. A sizable portion of her stone hair cracked off her shoulder.

"Dude, she's gonna chop off your nuts for that," Kelso said, "so it's a good thing I got another pair." He moved a good distance away from Hyde and Jackie. Then he pulled two silver acorns from his pants pocket. "These'll bring us right to the heart of the Troll Kingdom, to their castle."

Fez joined Kelso away from Hyde and Jackie. Their stony friends were as safe as they could be, but he and Kelso had to act. Every second they spent inside the Elf bubble, seven seconds went by outside of it. "Toss the nuts," he said and hooked an arm around Kelso's waist, "before I change my mind."

"Yes, Sir."

Kelso threw down the silver acorns, and the earth rose up in a colorful mix of dirt and grass and flowers. It swirled around him and Fez—a dazzling display—then swallowed them into darkness.

The Red Caps had finally quit dosing Red with Troll dust and let him wake. Donna said nothing as he groaned a bit and stretched on his stone bench. Red Caps were setting the table inside the cell. It was time for dinner, a simple but succulent-smelling meal of steak and roasted potatoes. Donna had no plans of eating, however, and she glowered as the Red Caps left the cell. Where the hell were Fez and Kelso? Surely, they knew what Eric had done by now. Had they been captured, too? Or did Penny simply do away with them?

Any number of things could've happened up in the castle. The Red Caps hadn't brought Jackie and Hyde down to the dungeon, either. Maybe the curse had finished them off, but that couldn't be. In spite of everything, Donna still loved Eric. She still felt him coursing through her blood.

"Donna, your steak's getting cold," Red said. He was sitting at the wooden table and eating. "Sit your ass down and eat."

"Red?"

"We're eating on your dad's dime. No way in hell would I pay the Vineyard's prices. Highway robbery, but..." he forked a chunk of beef into his mouth, "this steak ain't half bad."

Donna flinched at his unexpected words, but he clearly couldn't see where they were. He was under some kind of spell and probably thought he was dreaming. She sat down at the table and picked at the potatoes.

"How'd the honeymoon go?" Red said. "Eric didn't spend all your time playing with his dolls, did he? I saw him packing up the guy with the breathing problem."

"No..." Her eyes stung. She clutched the underside of the table and shunted her feelings into her fingernails. She dug them into the wood.

Red's fork clanked onto his plate. "For God's sake, what did he do?"

"Nothing," she said and forced a smile. "Everything's fine," but she ached to tell him the truth. In his plaid work-shirt and jeans, he reminded her of home. He just needed his pea-soup green chair and Mrs. Forman laughing beside him.

"Donna, don't pull that 'Everything's fine' crap with me." He picked up his fork again, and something scarlet peeked out from his sleeve. She'd noticed it at the wedding, too, but dismissed it as a trick of her newlywed brain. "I've been married over twenty-five years," he continued, "and it took me twenty-three to learn that "Everything's fine" actually means the opposite."

"I don't want to talk about it." She pointed at the scarlet thing beneath his sleeve. "What's that?"

"I'll tell you—but then you're gonna tell me the damn truth. Kitty'll have my head if she finds out I let you divorce our dumbass-son a few weeks after the wedding."

Her mouth dropped open. Red really must have thought he was dreaming. "Okay," she said.

"Okay." He unbuttoned his sleeve cuff. Woven around his right wrist was a braid of scarlet hair. "It's my mother's. She gave it to me when I was a boy. I never wore it, but on the day of your wedding..." his voice became gruffer, and his face flushed in the dungeon's dim light, "it felt right to put it on. Guess I haven't felt like taking it off." He re-buttoned his sleeve. "Your turn."

She placed her left hand on the table in front of him. The pearl of her engagement ring was silent, but Donna sang the first line of Styx's "Lady," and a mouth split open on the pearl's shiny surface. It sang the rest of the song to an astonished Red.

"It's magic," she said afterward. Then, even though she doubted he'd understand, she told him about the Traveling mirror that had brought them here... and about everything else.

Jackie was floating in the dark. She experienced no sounds, no smells, no feelings—not even the pain in her thigh. Only thoughts. "Steven?" she said and broke the silence, but something cold slipped behind her heart and began to push.

She glanced down. A deep red glow radiated from where her chest must have been. She covered the glow with her hands. It felt warm and like Steven... but the cold pressure behind her heart was building.

"What's happening?" she shouted. Terror flowed through her body like rivers of ice; it shortened her breath and made her tremble.

"The curse is taking him from you," a sad and familiar voice said. It was Laurie's. Jackie couldn't see her, but Laurie had somehow joined her in the dark. "Hyde's taking himself from you, just like you've been taking yourself from him."

"No..." Jackie stared down at her hands. They still clutched the red glow at her chest, but the glow was growing brighter and warmer. It lit up the bones in her fingers. "No!" she said defiantly, but the cold pressure was shoving the glow outward. "What do I do?"

"Well, you better figure out something 'cause once he's gone, so is love from the Kingdoms."

The glow started to pass through Jackie's fingers. Steven was leaving her, but he was hers.

She pressed her hands into the glow as hard as she could. "Don't leave me," she whispered. "Please, don't leave!" Then she looked up at the darkness; her eyes were hot with tears. "Laurie, help!"

"Oh, but I thought Jackie Burkhart didn't need help," Laurie said, and her mocking laughter burst in Jackie's ears like fireworks. "Just as I thought. You're still the pathetic girl I stole Kelso from. If Hyde hadn't been in the basement, I would've destroyed you—"

"No one can destroy me. Not you, not your skanky look-a-like cousin, no one!"

"Hyde's always had a soft spot for the weak," Laurie continued. "Why do you think he became friends with my little brother? Eric's as pathetic as you are."

"We are not!"

"And you know the ironic thing? Hyde's made you both weaker."

"He hasn't!" Jackie shouted. The red glow was halfway outside her chest now and spilling between her fingers. "God, please don't leave me!"

"Really," Laurie said. "You've been dependent on a man your whole life, Jackie. First, your 'daddy'. Then Kelso. And now Hyde. None of them ever loved you. One placated you. One used you. One felt sorry for you—"

"Steven loves me." Jackie cupped her hands over the glow. "He loves me!"

"And you've become so weak because of it."

Jackie coughed. Tears had made her tongue and throat salty. "You're wrong," she said between gasping breaths, but she didn't believe herself. The red glow was moments from completely withdrawing from her chest. She couldn't stop it.

Laurie sighed. "You really aren't too bright, are you? You keep confusing being dependent on someone with being loved."

An anguished cry escaped Jackie's body along with the red glow. "Steven!" She clawed at the inky blackness, but it was over. The red glow had vanished into the dark, taking Steven's love with it.

Hyde's heart was empty, but something had once belonged inside it. That much he remembered, but he didn't mind his numbness—not until something warm disrupted it. A tiny dot of light winked into existence and shone from above. It brightened and warmed the middle of his chest, and the rest of him now felt freezing in comparison.

He reached up in the dark, and his hand landed on a dusty ledge... dirt? He inhaled, and his nose filled with the smell of earth. The ledge seemed substantial enough to climb, but why bother moving? He had a little light. Wasn't that enough?

Nope. He was shivering, man, and not just because he was cold. Grief for the missing core of his heart threatened to overtake him. He needed to find it—wherever and whatever it was—and the light seemed to be his first clue.

He grasped the dirt ledge with both hands and pulled himself onto a plateau. A hill, barely visible in the dark, rolled out in front of him. The dot of light was shining high above it, maybe from another hill but one he couldn't see.

Nothing else to do but climb. He dug his hands and feet into the hill and began the journey upward. Warmth inched over more of his body as he went, enough to spur him on. He was freakin' flesh, not stone, and though he missed his deadened state, he wanted the light more.

The dead, all-encompassing darkness slowly brightened into a slightly less-dead sky, and Jackie realized she was standing on a hill, one of many that rose higher and higher above her. The relentless pressure behind her heart had dissipated, having squeezed out the thing she held most dear.

"I love you," she whispered and rubbed a hand over her hollow chest. "Steven, I won't stop, even if..." She peered up at the shadowed hills. She still loved him. "Laurie, that means he's not gone! The curse hasn't 'torn us asunder'."

Laurie didn't answer. If she were anywhere nearby, Jackie couldn't see or hear her.

"'Push through the dirt you must not spurn,'" Jackie said, quoting Hubrecht, the Duergar's mirror. "'Climb to the sun that does not burn. Over the hills your true answer lies, beneath a blue and shattered sky.' Well, the sky isn't blue or shattered, and there's no sun... but I've got plenty of hills."

Hope bloomed inside her chest. The hill she stood on wasn't terribly steep, about as bad as Wedge Hill where she used to bike. Climbing it to the next one wouldn't be hard. Steven had to be waiting for her at the top of the highest peak.

"I'll be there, Puddin'!" she shouted. "Baby, don't give up!"

Though she had no idea where the curse had taken her, she kept climbing, step after careful step in the near-invisible dirt. She wouldn't stop until she reclaimed what had been stolen—because no one stole from Jackie Burkhart and got away with it.

Fez and Kelso were ejected from the earth into the thick boughs of an oak. A branch pressed painfully into Fez's stomach, but he scanned his surroundings before doing anything else. A glass ceiling stretched out above him, dirt-covered ground lay directly below him, and walls made of adobe connected the two. The walls were decorated with axes and bear pelts, and a heap of leather shoes was piled in the corner. The stink of sweat, old and fresh, permeated the air. This was definitely the Troll sovereigns' throne room, and Fez dropped to the dirt.

The Troll sovereigns themselves were sitting in three wooden but ornate thrones. Mounds of colorful candy were in their laps, and Burly, Blabberwort, and Bluebell seemed to be debating over which candy tasted best.

"Gumdrops," Burly said. He was the tallest of the three and the beefiest. A crown mashed his greasy black hair onto his massive forehead. "They are the most flavorful!"

"Too chewy!" Bluebell said and hurled a handful of gumdrops at Burly's face. "They get stuck in my teeth, and I have to use my dagger to get them out. I cut my lips five times!" He was the shortest of the Trolls, and according to Kelso, the most vicious. His bulbous nose hung over his mouth, and he scratched it a lot. "Swirly lollipops offer the most variety! The flavor changes after every lick!"

Blabberwort nodded. Her frizzy orange hair bounced over her crown. "Nicey-nice, but I prefer chocolate."

"Chocolate!" Burly and Bluebell shouted in agreement.

"Shall we make a decree?" Blabberwort said.

"Yeah!" Bluebell raised his dagger, but Kelso landed beside Fez with a loud thud, making the Troll scowl. "Stab a Kelso!"

"Your Majesty!" Blabberwort said, and she and Burly both rose from their thrones. They yanked Bluebell from his throne, too, and the three of them bowed. "To what do we owe the honor of your presence?"

Fez and Kelso bowed their heads in return, and Fez said, "Please, pardon the intrusion, Your Highnesses, but Rhonda gave us these magic acorns to reach you. We are in need of your assistance. The Second Kingdom is being overrun by wolves."

"Yes, we have heard news of the wolves declaring war," Burly said. "Stinking dogs."

Blabberwort stepped forward. The bronze armor of her breastplate showed off her generous bosom. "But why does this concern you? You are not the Second Kingdom's ruler. Only its steward. You should worry about your own kingdom."

"He has," Kelso said, "which is why he couldn't bring enough men to fight the wolves."

"Yes." Bluebell snorted and thrust his dagger into the air. "Our dad wreaked a lot havoc in the Fourth Kingdom."

"So did we," Burly said, and the three Trolls laughed riotously before getting control of themselves. "Sorry. How can we assist you?"

"Join the fight," Fez said. "Help defend the Second Kingdom. If you don't, and the Second Kingdom falls, the rest of the Nine Kingdoms may follow."

Blabberwort shook her orange-topped head. "Our people are war-weary after we failed to take over your kingdom."

"But your National Wrestling Champion is on the front lines!" Kelso said.

"Rhon-Da?" Bluebell pulled his siblings to the heap of shoes in the corner. They whispered in a huddle, argued, agreed, argued some more, and then Bluebell broke from the huddle first. "We can't have our Wrestling Champion felled by puny wolves!"

"It would be terrible for Troll Nation morale," Burly said.

"But to win a war instead of losing one..." Blabberwort looked at her brothers, and the three of them smiled.

"We'll do it!" they all said.

"Thank you," Fez said and bowed his head again. "But you must sign an agreement not to occupy the Second Kingdom yourself afterward. Otherwise, the other seven kingdoms will—"

Blabberwort waved a knobby, dismissive hand. "We don't need to occupy any other kingdoms now. With the bounty we won in the Candy and Pie Expo, huge candy trees are growing throughout the Beanstalk Forest. It is changing the nature of our soil. Soon, we will be able to have farms and much healthier livestock... but we will sign your agreement."

Kelso nudged Fez's side and grinned. Looks like Rhonda was right, seemed to be Kelso's silent gloat. If the Trolls indeed acted on their word, then Rhonda's judgment was befit a queen, and Fez intended to make her one—to make her his—if she survived.

Red went silent inside the cell. Donna had finished telling him about his and Eric's fairy-tale heritage. He'd shown no outward response it—or to the wolves' war with Penny. He didn't even cough at all the impossible but true things she and Eric had experienced the last few weeks. She thought Penny's daze-inducing magic might have paralyzed him until, finally, his fingers drummed on the table beside his half-eaten steak.

"Red?" Donna said.

"My mother was miserable for a long time," he said but sounded far away. "She used to talk in her sleep, and I never understood what the hell she was saying but the name 'Rollin.'" His fingers stopped their drumming and curled into a fist. "Sonuvabitch! My father's a Goddamn dog?"

"No, he's a wolf and indistinguishable from human most of the time—except for the furry tail."

"Like the one we had surgically removed from Laurie."

"Yes."

"Who Eric killed in self-defense because some 'Evil Queen' possessed her."

"Yes."

Red's lips departed from their normal grimace and curved into a weak smile. "You know I don't buy any of this bullshit, right?"

"Oh, God—"

"Laurie looks alive and well to me whenever she visits," he continued. "In fact, she's happier than I've ever seen her. Unless it's her spirit because Eric 'freed her'—"

"He did!"

"Enough with this damn story!" Red stabbed his steak with his fork, turned it over, and examined it. "Cold..." He glanced around the cell. "Where's a waiter when you need one?" Then his grimace returned, deeper than before. "You want to use Eric in whatever you're writing for your college class, go ahead, but leave me the hell out of it."

"It's not a story!" Donna's hands slammed into the table, and the plates jumped. "But if you don't believe it, you have to believe this: Eric doesn't think he's good enough, and it's destroying him."

"Good enough for what? You?"

"You."

Red's grimace softened into a frown. "Well, I—" A cloud of pink dust burst against his face, and he fell off his chair to the ground.

Donna ran to his side. She had nothing to place beneath his head. The Red Caps could have at least given him a pillow, but none of Penny's young lackeys were in the dungeon as far as she could see. Penny herself was standing outside the cell, tucking a slingshot into the folds of her cloak.

"You bitch!" Donna rushed the cell door and tried to grasp Penny's sleeve, but the space between the bars was too narrow for Donna's arm to fit through. "Why did you do that? What are you doing to Eric?" She pushed her face against the bars. "Eric!"

"Shh! Uncle Red needs to be well-rested for the victory celebration tomorrow. As for Eric..." Penny combed a hand through her blonde hair, "I'm not doing anything to him. He's simply fulfilling his destiny."

"All your Red Caps will eventually revolt," Donna said. "They want love just like the rest of us, and wolves are the only men in this kingdom, like it or not. You have your mother to thank for that."

"Oh, the Red Caps won't revolt, my dear..." Penny's lips curled up, decidedly un-Penny-like, and her blue eyes lost any trace of warmth, "because they won't desire love after tomorrow. No one will. Jackie and Hyde's love is about to break, and with it goes the love of the Nine Kingdoms. And you—" She approached the cell bars. Her thumb pressed into Donna's cheek, and invisible frost spread beneath Donna's skin. "You won't be suffering much longer. Whatever love remains in your heart for Eric will soon be gone."

She strode from the cell, and her scarlet cloak whipped out behind her, but Donna shouted "You're wrong!"

Penny had to be wrong.


	66. Only One Hour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. “Thirteen” (C) 2009 Concord Music Group Inc. “The End” 2007 Rhino Entertainment Company, a Warner Music Group company.

CHAPTER 66  
 **ONLY ONE HOUR**  


All night, dreams of being hunted by the full moon anguished Eric's mind. The moon had the cursed ring for an eye, a sky-blue diamond gazing at him hungrily. It also had Grayhead's sharp teeth for a mouth, urging him unceasingly to shed his human costume and be as he truly was. _A wolf._

The nightmares shrunk his appetite in the morning, but only slightly. Penny must have warned her kitchen staff about his wolfish needs. His breakfast consisted of several courses, including bacon-wrapped venison, bacon-infused sausage, and bacon-and-lamb stew. He ate it all in the main dining room, and except for the mounted animal heads on the walls, he was alone.

But he didn't feel alone. The ring kept him violent company. An intruder, in diametric opposition to the curse, had somehow entered the diamond. A war was seething over his heart, threatening to burn away his blood and leave him a withered husk, just like his grandmother.

"Won't you tell me what you're thinking of?" he sang to himself. "Would you be an outlaw for my love?" He'd finished his fifth plate of food and was licking his fingers when Penny arrived in a whirl of scarlet. Her cloak was flowing around her like blood-tinged fog.

"Don't you wonder where your friends are?" she said.

"Not really." His belly was distended with all the food he'd gobbled down, but it would shrink soon, and he'd be hungry again. "The kitchens are stocked with enough meat to last the day—and night— right?"

"Can it be..." she sat across from him and leaned forward on the table, "Eric Forman has finally eschewed all sentiment from himself? My, wearing that ring around your neck has done marvelous things for you." She chuckled harshly, not Penny's laugh but her mother's, and then her face grew serious. "Regardless of your feelings—or lack thereof—about them, you should know Fez and Kelso have foolishly abandoned the castle. They plan to fight the wolves head-on. As for Hyde and Jackie," she twirled her finger in the air then pointed at his chest, "their essences are now very close to you."

He peered down into his shirt collar. On the surface, the ring appeared no different, but the change he sensed deep within the diamond now made sense.

"Yes, they're inside the ring," she said. "The curse will rupture their fundamental selves until they're past saving. An unfortunate but necessary sacrifice. Just a matter of hours—or maybe even minutes—before the Nine Kingdoms is rescued from its own curse. That of _love._ "

"Um..." he glanced at the plates he'd emptied of food, "the lack of love isn't going to keep me from eating, is it?"

She laughed again, this time more softly, and brushed her cold fingers through his hair. "The approaching full moon has narrowed your focus deliciously, but I need you to widen it and join me in the east tower."

Eric didn't question her. Climbing all those stairs would help him digest his breakfast, and he made a game of it. He raced to the east wing and charged up the tower, taking two and three stairs at a time—then four. He was jumping, using plyometrics. His pouch of indigo Wolfsbane was tied to his belt, but he trusted it not to break open and kill him. He hadn't challenged his quadriceps like this in a while, but when he reached the small chamber at the tower's top, fun-time was over.

The sight through Penny's magic window, her Scrying Glass, sobered him up. A small portion of wolves was dangerously close to the city of Needles. They'd reach the castle by nightfall, making way for the rest of Grayhead's forces. Where were the Red Caps? Why weren't they massing in the forest surrounding the city?

Eric sat in the golden throne and willed the window to show him Grayhead's pack. The image in the Glass shifted northeast. Dark-haired members of Grayhead's most loyal wolves—his sons and nephews and grandsons—were moving through the trees faster than Eric could mark them individually, save for the youngest, Ullock. His short stature and longer hair gave him away, but what about Grayhead? How was he concealing himself? Had he dyed his hair? Or maybe he'd elected to travel alone.

The wolves' grip on Eric's attention remained strong until Penny-Averill's scent entered the chamber. Even her scent was a mixture of the two women. He looked toward the stairs, but she arrived minutes later, pulling up her cloak as not to trip on it.

"Would you look at that?" she said and sat on the throne's arm. Her body was next to him but offered no warmth. "Appears my half-brother had a change of heart."

"What?" He stared through the window, at the wolves running in woods, but again he couldn't distinguish them.

"Glass, hold," she said, and the image froze in the window. At the back of the pack was the young Ullock, and motionless beside him was Wolf.

"But he..." Eric could hardly believe it. Wolf had betrayed them. He probably knew the forest's defenses better than anyone. Was this his way of finally gaining Grayhead's respect?

"It's not surprising," Penny-Averill said. "He _is_ a wolf, after all."

"So am I."

She frowned, "You're not like them," and hopped off the throne's arm. "You have true loyalty." She walked toward the back of the chamber. "Glass, commence."

The window's image unfroze, and a bird's-eye view of the forest dampened the immediacy of the wolves' threat. The view resembled a nature documentary more than the beginning of a war.

"Grayhead must be after the ring," she said. "His confidence is lacking. He isn't certain his wolves won't fall when I unleash all my Red Caps upon them."

"Wait a minute..." Eric pushed himself off the throne and rounded on her. "You've been holding the Red Caps back?"

"They're been hiding up north, in the wilds of the sleeping Sixth Kingdom."

"You wanted the wolves to come here," he said, "to sweep over the Second Kingdom."

Penny-Averill smiled proudly, "Bright boy," and raised her fist. "It's far more satisfying to crush an enemy when he's in the throes of illusory victory."

"But all those deaths—"

She didn't seem to hear him. Her concentration was fixed on something deep inside her own mind. "Grayhead fooled me once, but it's his turn now. He is far too savvy to assume that I'm _not_ savvy, but he cannot be sure of what I've done. Hence, he wants the ring to assure his triumph."

"He can't touch it, though," Eric said. "Just like you, he can't."

"Not while you live, no," she said. She put on her leather gloves, and his hackles raised. A low growl was rumbling in his throat, but he swallowed it down as she rolled an indigo Wolfsbane pellet between her palms. "I could have killed you at any time since your arrival here, yet you still live. And do you know why?"

He backed up toward the throne. "No."

"Because I want—I _need_ you to trust me. Being Queen is an incredibly lonely affair. Love is irrelevant, but loyalty is not. Ruling the Nine Kingdoms together, shaping them into something new... far more enjoyable than doing it alone." She traced a magical pattern in the air with her gloved fingers, one of those blood-red sigils he saw in Averill's tomb. "Imagine, it Eric! You, me, and Red creating an eternal dynasty where no one need suffer."

With a flick of her wrist, the sigil erupted in a shower of icy sparks. Some of them landed on Eric's skin, making it numb— _no,_ more than numb. His skin felt dead. He wanted to rip it off.

"Is that a question I see on your face?" Penny-Averill said. "There is an ancient form of magic, practiced in the Eighth Kingdom. Only those who dare swim across the Lake of Ice may learn it. That realm is unpoisoned by love," her lips curled with disgust, "but its Queen lacks... the proper vision."

She traced another pattern in the air, one he didn't recognize. It, too, erupted in a shower of sparks, but these were hot when they landed on him. They returned feeling to his skin, swiftly and painfully.

"Just as you hunger, _I_ hunger," she said and held up her deadly Wolfsbane pellet. "I have faith you'll trust me before Grayhead tries to kill us, and if you don't..."

She smashed the pellet into powder.

* * *

Hyde's arms were shaking, and his legs hurt. He'd climbed over a crapload of grassy, rock-strewn hills, but the light he pursued grew bigger, brighter, and warmer as he went. It had to be the sun he was looking for, what he was missing inside himself. Just one more hill, and he'd reach it. The light seemed to be resting on a plateau above. His aching hands and sore feet would just have to keep digging in the earth and haul him up.

"What about a rest?" A clod of dirt was talking to him. It had no face, but the dirt was definitely speaking. "You're tired."

"Gotta get to that light, man," he said and began to climb the last hill.

"Naw, you don't," another clod of dirt said. It spat grass at Hyde's neck as it spoke. "Look at that sky. It's a beautiful midnight blue, don'tcha think? Perfect for closing your eyes and tuning out."

The sky had lightened significantly since Hyde started up the hills, like a cloudy, starless night in Wisconsin. He yawned but was determined. He continued to scale the hillside, and clods of dirt emerged all around him, spouting:

"There are so many more hills after this one!"

"Nothing up this one you need to see, man."

"Too much effort, too little reward."

"I've got a primo pair of shades here. Why not put 'em on and have some grass?"

Hyde stopped at that last one. Shades like those he'd lost and a joint, spectacularly rolled, were sticking out of the hillside. The joint smelled like the real thing, too. "What about a light?" he said, but the question lit his memory...

_The light._

He pulled himself past the joint and the shades. The dirt continued to warn him as he climbed higher, but he eventually reached the plateau. Freezing sweat drenched his body, but the earth beneath his hands and feet was dry and cracked. It was a good place to rest before the big moment. The ground absorbed his sweat once he lay down, and he caught his breath.

The light was shining onto all of him now and brightened the cracked, ruddy earth. Those fissures cut painfully into his skin, but he felt a measure of serenity. Time had come for him and the sun to meet.

His eyes shut in anticipation as he stood up, and he rubbed a hand over his heart. The emptiness there would soon be gone. It had to be, man. He stepped into the warmth and opened his eyes, and the source of light was before him. A sunflower had sprouted from a crack in the earth.

"A freakin' sunflower?" he said. But its large, yellow petals radiated light and warmth. He gazed at it and touched one of the soft petals.

"It only has an hour to live, you know." A lump of dirt had risen by his foot and was yapping. "The flower began dying the moment you met. Why bother sticking around? You've got a lot more hills you can climb."

Hyde peered up. Half-a-dozen or so hills stretched into the sky.

"Who knows what's at the top?" the lump said. "Could be something great."

"First you tell me not to go, and now you're telling me not to stay? Screw that." Hyde sat by the sunflower and crossed his arms over his chest. "An hour's better than nothin'," but the earth around the sunflower seemed dryer than the rest of the plateau, more parched. The petals' tips were curling a little.

"See? It's wilting already," the lump said, but Hyde spared it no glance. "If you're still here when the flower dies, you could lose your chance to keep climbing. The flower's roots could disintegrate, taking the ground with it. You'll plunge back into a darkness from which you can't escape. But if you leave now, without looking back, you can make it."

"Make it where?" Hyde said. The flower was decidedly wilting, and the light it radiated, fading. "It needs water."

"No water 'round here. It's gonna shrivel to nothing. You're better off leaving. Go see what's out there."

The lump was probably right, but Hyde couldn't move. Grief and guilt lashed him to the sunflower's side. If it was going to die because of him, he owed it a witness.

* * *

Climbing the stupid hills had shredded Jackie's nails and covered her face in dirt. Her eyelashes likely had inchworms crawling between them, but she refused to scream. Screaming would only waste her strength. The hills had grown steeper and steeper, and she arrived at one that was almost completely sheer. It would be impossible to climb with just her hands and feet, but a plateau was above it. The sky had brightened enough for her to see its flat plain. She needed to get up there, but how?

She walked along the hillside, searching it with her hands and eyes for anything useful, and her palm swept over something coated with slime "Oh, my God—" A snake? No, snakes weren't slimy, no matter how disgusting they looked. Steven thought she had a phobia, and he used to tease her about it. He'd press himself against her back and whisper:

" _Ride the snake. He's old, and his skin is cold..._ "

But snakes didn't scare her; touching moist, viscous goop did. The very idea made her shudder, but the snake she'd touched was in fact a vine, hanging over the edge of the plateau.

She grabbed ahold of it and climbed, using her knees to help push her up. She clutched the vine as tightly as she could, but its slimy substance oozed between her fingers. Halfway toward the plateau, her hands and legs were coated in the stuff, and she lost all traction. She slipped off the vine with a cry and tumbled over the hillside—only to land on the one below.

"Damn it!" she shouted, and her voice echoed off the hills. Now she had to climb back up and do work she'd already done. First, though, she rolled herself in the dirt. She had to rid herself of the slime or else climbing up anything wouldn't happen.

She clambered up the steep hill once she was free of goo. Glisten beaded on her brow and over her arms with the effort, and when she got to the top, she took a short rest. The snake-vine was useless, but another way to scale the sheer hillside had to exist. She searched again, and her fingertips brushed over a second vine. This one was dry and fibrous and somewhat flimsy, but she didn't weigh that much. The vine would probably support her, but just to be sure, she yanked on it.

No breakage. This vine had to be her way up. She grasped it and ascended swiftly, but some kind of winged creature swooped in. Was it a bird? In the dark, she couldn't tell, but the creature perched above her on the vine and let out a raucous, "Caw! Caw!" in Laurie's voice.

"Don't you dare, Laurie," Jackie said. "Don't you dare!"

But the bird-Laurie-creature began gnawing on the vine. Jackie climbed faster, hoping the thing would fly off. She reached the bird-Laurie-creature's toe-claws, but its beak had cut through the vine.

"You biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch!" Jackie shouted as she plunged past the plateau below. She fell down the steep hill beneath it and landed with too much momentum. She rolled down this next hill but finally came to a stop at another plateau.

Her mouth was full of dirt and grass, and she spat it out before unleashing every swear word she knew. The indignity of it all! Three hills to scale over again, and another one she had yet to climb successfully.

"I was fat, blind, and deaf," she said while starting her ascent, and she kept on talking as she ascended higher. "My first boyfriend cheated on me. Then he ran off on me..." Her tales of survival made the climb seem faster, but by the time she arrived back at her highest point, she felt dried-out, like the cookies she always failed to bake well for Steven. "I repeated myself too many times... I'm sick of it!" she shouted, and her voice echoed back at her, mockingly.

_I'm sick of it! I'm sick of it! I'm sick of it!_

She laid her forehead against the sheer, jagged hillside and let out a frustrated whimper. Wanting something to be different wasn't enough. She had to _do_ something different. Otherwise she'd keep falling farther and father down. What did she do differently with Steven than she had with Michael? For one, she asked Steven for things instead of demanding them. She let him love her instead of forcing him to...

"I can't force my way up you, can I?" she said to the hillside. "I won't beg. Burkharts don't beg, but please, let me up. I'd do it on my own if I could, but I can't—"

The ground began to shake, and dirt and pebbles dropped onto her hair. She stepped back, careful not to go too far. She didn't want to stumble and plummet to the hill below. The hillside in front of her, however, was vibrating. Stairs emerged from the rock, as if a chisel had hewn them.

She clapped excitedly. "Oh, this is just like when Steven agreed to be a pancake flipper for me." Then she placed a foot tentatively on the first step. It seemed solid, but she treaded up the stairs cautiously. To her relief, the stone didn't disintegrate, and she hopped onto the grassy plateau above.

"I made it!" she sang victoriously. "I made it, I made it!" But her triumph sagged under the sight of more hills. They were a good distance away, and she gazed up at the sky. Comfortingly, it had brightened to a late, Wisconsin evening.

"Steven!" she shouted across the plateau. "Steven, can you hear me?" and a rustling, like autumn leaves, answered her back. She ran through the grass toward the sound, and it grew more distinct. The rustling wasn't rustling at all but _sniffling._ Someone was crying.

Not Steven. With rare exception, he didn't cry, and certainly not audibly. She followed the sniffles anyway. Her muscles were spent from all that climbing, and answers around here weren't forthcoming. Maybe the crier could tell her where she was or—more importantly—if her piece of Steven's essence had floated by, that red glow the curse had squeezed from her heart. At the very least, the crier had to be of more help than Laurie.

* * *

The Troll Nation's army swept up through the Second Kingdom, beginning in the very south of it. Squadrons of Trolls broke off to liberate wolf-occupied villages and towns—but with explicit orders not to kill the wolves if possible. Burly, Blabberwort, and Bluebell seemed to hold in high esteem Fez's compassion, and as he led the charge north through Red Riding Hood Forest, Fez silently thanked his parents for what they'd taught him about mercy.

He longed for their wisdom now, something he could shelter behind as he came upon the war's casualties. The woods were littered with chewed-up bodies, Fourth Kingdom soldiers and Red Caps alike. Wolves numbered among the dead, too, some run through with swords. Others appeared merely asleep on the forest floor, having been felled by indigo Wolfsbane.

"Fez, don't dwell on it," Kelso called from his horse. "We gotta move to keep this from happening to other people."

Fez urged his horse onward, and they joined Kelso up ahead. Kelso was right, of course; but images of Miss Muffet's body, torn so brutally by sharp and pitiless teeth, invaded Fez's mind. He countered them with the hope that Rhonda was still alive. At the last report, she was at the Belt, helping Cadell beat back the wolves' first wave. But the second wave was much larger. What would happen when it reached the Welkin foothills?

"True love never dies," he said to himself. His grandmother, Snow White, had been proof of that. He and Rhonda would just have to prove it again.

* * *

"Hour's almost up," the lump of dirt said by Hyde's knee. "If you leave now, you can still save yourself."

Hyde was crouched by the sunflower and keeping watch. The flower had drooped toward the dry, cracked earth. Its petals were completely curled, and the light it gave off was barely that of a match.

_Freakin' typical, man._ He worked his ass off to find the light, and the moment he did, it starts to die. Working for the things he wanted was pointless, so he usually wanted little. But this light...

" _Come on, Steven, where's your ambition?_ "The question was ringing in his skull. Someone had asked him that once, but he couldn't remember who. " _You have to have some kind of drive for something, a passion._ "Just to get by. That was his passion. Just to get through this damn life without it hurting too much. Maybe have a good time once in a while, but the light made him want more, and now it was almost gone.

Pressure had built up behind his eyes. He tried to stop it, but a tear burst free and glided down his cheek.

"What are you doing?" the lump of dirt said.

"Scram," Hyde said. His tear splashed on the parched ground, by the sunflower's stem.

"Moron! You're cryin' over a damn flower?"

He was, and more tears spilled down his face. It embarrassed him, but the sunflower—for a brief moment—had filled the hollowness in his heart.

"You're gonna spend eternity here," the lump of dirt said, "in misery, in agony. No escape for you."

The ground became muddy where Hyde's tears fell, but it seemed to do no good for the sunflower. The flower blackened and dissolved into the mud, becoming indistinguishable from it. He sighed, and a gust of wind blew across the plateau. Nothing left to do but climb more hills or go back down to the freezing bottom. Neither option seemed worth a damn, but at least the lump of dirt had scattered with the wind.

He turned away from the sunflower's death spot, but something tugged on the hem of his shirt. _His shirt?_ He'd been naked before, but now his body was clothed in an outfit from home, and that tug on his shirt became a yank.

"What?" he said angrily and turned back around. If one of those dirty lumps thought it would hitch a ride...

" _'Scuse_ me," a shrill, young voice said. It belonged to a little girl. She was standing in the mud and had on a frilly dress. Her brown hair was sweaty and plastered to her forehead, and her eyes were too big for her face—but what he'd mourned in the sunflower was shining in them. "Can you help me? I'm lost."

"How'd you get lost?" he said.

Those big eyes of hers grew wet. "I was playing hide-and-seek with my mommy and daddy, but I hid in a great spot. It was behind this huge rock, and they—and they never found me." Her voice broke into sobs, and she seemed barely able to form words. "And now—and now—and now I can't find _them!_ "

"Yeah," he extended his hand to her, "I lost something, too."

"You—you did?"

"Yup. We'll find 'em."

She sniffled. "Thank you." Then she wrapped her small fingers around his palm, and warmth spread into him, filling up his cold, dark spaces. The sky, too, had brightened from midnight blue to a purplish twilight, and as he led her toward the hills, he realized what he'd lost.

"I'm Jackie," she said.

"Hyde."

The light had been her all along.


	67. Sunlight and the Blue Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

 

CHAPTER 67  
 **SUNLIGHT AND THE BLUE SKY**

The grass beneath Jackie's feet had turned into concrete, the sidewalks of Point Place's worst neighborhood. Not a ghetto, but it was where people rented houses because they couldn't afford to own them. Porch lights lit her way in the starless night sky, but how could her hometown materialize from the air? Where the hell was she? Far behind her was the edge of the plateau. Ahead were more rolling hills, but she had no intention of climbing up further, not until she found the source of those sniffling cries.

She passed by unfamiliar house after unfamiliar house until she reached a porch covered in potted plants. The sniffling seemed loudest here, and she glanced up. The front door was open, but the screen door was closed in front of it, and she knew where she'd come to: Steven's childhood home. She'd been here only twice, most significantly on the night Steven had fallen in love with her, but this was not that night.

From the bottom of the porch steps, she couldn't see far inside the house, just a framed drawing on the wall of a boat. She climbed the steps to the screen door and peered into the living room, and her breath caught. On the couch, a curly-haired boy sat hunched over his knees. His small fingers were laced over the nape of his neck, and his body bounced with his sniffles.

"Steven?" she said, and the boy perked up his head.

"Who the hell are you?" He stood up without wiping his nose or drying his wet eyes and went to the screen door. He couldn't have been older than eight or nine. The collar of his shirt was stretched out and ripped, and a long, segmented bruise had vandalized his shoulder. On his left cheek was a bleeding scrape, and she knew what night it was...

The night his father left for good.

Steven had shared those events with her long ago, through whispers and gritted teeth. His eyes had remained fixed to the cement floor of his room, not meeting her gaze until a gentle kiss to his shoulder brought him back.

This young Steven, though, he couldn't stay in the house. His mother would return soon and unleash the worst of her pain on him.

"I need you to come with me," Jackie said. She tried to open the screen door, but it was locked. "Stev _—Hyde,_ you have to come outside."

"My mom put you up to this?" He blew his snotty nose on his sleeve. "You from social services or some shit like that?" His hands stuffed themselves into his jeans pockets, and they came out with a matchbook and a rumpled cigarette. "Yeah, just 'cause Dad went off with a tighter ass don't mean you can send me to juvie." He stuck the cigarette into the corner of his mouth, but he had trouble lighting the matches. It took him three tries before he lit one. "Ain't my fault he ditched her."

He coughed a little after his first puff. He coughed a little more after his second. His nine-year-old body clearly didn't like the smoke, and he walked away from the screen door as if he were embarrassed.

"Hyde," she said, "don't."

"Don't what?" He turned around and faced her. The cigarette was still in his mouth, and he sucked in a short drag. The ensuing cough shook his chest, and white smoke escaped his lips. "You know my name, but you haven't said yours... so I'm goin' with 'bitch'."

Jackie's eyes flicked up to the dark, starless sky. She'd broken through a teenage Steven's defenses before and an adult Steven's, but she'd never dealt with him as a kid. She yanked on the screen door, hoping it had just been stuck, but it was well and truly locked. It wouldn't open unless he opened it, and he seemed to have no plans of doing that.

He stomped back into the living room and past the couch. Hanging crookedly on the wall was a framed painting of sunflowers. The painting must have been something they inherited because no way could his family have afforded it. He grasped the large frame with his small hands and tore it from the wall. A cascade of swear words poured out of him as he repeatedly struck the painting with his knee.

The volatile cloud that settled over him was something she'd rarely seen. His rage was usually locked tight, but this Steven was a child. He hadn't had a chance yet to develop any kind of control.

He kicked the painting across the room. The cigarette fell from his mouth, but he didn't appear to notice. He grabbed the table lamp by the couch and threw it. The ceramic base hit the floor in a dozen pieces. "They're both fuckers!"

"I know," Jackie said quietly.

He rushed the screen door. He punched the mesh by her face, and she flinched but didn't back away. You got no clue!" he shouted. "I'm not goin' to juvie or a shrink or to foster care. You can take Edna, but I'm stayin' right here."

"If you do, you'll never leave." Her pulse was pounding. The raw, hollow cavity inside her heart ached for him to get out of the house. "If you stay, you'll never have better than this."

"Fuck you."

"But outside of this house is who you really are—"

He bashed the screen door with his bruised shoulder. "Fuck off!"

She jumped back, "Oh, whatever," but recovered quickly and stood her ground. "You want people to think you're some tough asshole—so they can't hurt you or leave you. And you know what? You _are_ a tough asshole, but you're also so much more than that, and no matter what you do to me, I won't hurt you... and I'm _not_ leaving."

"Have it your way, bitch." He disappeared from the screen door and vanished from her view completely. A moment later, another door banged shut. Another barrier between them.

Jackie sighed. If only she had some wire cutters on her, she'd be able to cut through the screen door's mesh. But forcing her way into the house wasn't the way. What could she possibly say to coax him outside _?_ Waiting appeared to be her only option.

She leaned her forehead against the screen door, and an orange flicker rose above the couch. The flicker erupted into a stream of bright flame and belched black smoke as it consumed the couch's upholstery.

"Oh, my God." She grasped the screen door's handle and wrenched it. Wrenched it again. No good. She slammed her foot into the door, over and over, and screamed Steven's name.

His cigarette had set the house on fire.

* * *

The land around Hyde and the seven-year-old Jackie was no longer dry and cracked but a lush park. The trees looked like grasping hands in the dark sky, and Jackie seemed creeped out by them. She demanded to be carried, but he didn't oblige until a tantrum made her scream—a piercing shriek that punched through his eardrums. Abandoning her wasn't an option, so he picked her up, and her trap shut. Her thin arms looped around his neck, and she hugged herself to him as they continued toward the horizon. The hills were still some distance away, but her trust in him eased the journey.

"Are you Steven Hyde's daddy?" she said against his chest. Her tears had wet his shirt.

"Uh... his uncle," he said and tried to hide his surprise. How did she know that Steven Hyde—that _he_ —even existed? At that age, they hadn't gone to the same school.

"No offense," she said, "but I don't like him. He's scary and mean and dirty and poor."

 _No offense._ She must have picked that one up from her mom.

"He called me an itch because I stayed on the swings. I didn't wanna get off because I wasn't done. But he pushed me, and I fell, and I cut my knee."

Hyde glanced down, but her dress was covering her legs. He wouldn't pull up the frilly skirt to check—didn't want to scare her—but he'd bet money her left knee was scarred with the shape of a hook. Or maybe it was a scab at this point. Either way, he'd given it to her...

 _Holy hell,_ he remembered now. At the playground by the Piggly Wiggly. Edna had dropped him off there while she went to shop for something, probably booze. Some girl was on the swings too long, and he was in a crap mood, and—

"Man, I was a little shit," he muttered.

"What?"

"Oh, uh... Steven told me he felt bad about shoving you.".

Jackie peeked up her head, and her big, bright eyes widened. "He did?"

"Yeah. He's got a crush on you, and—"

"What's a crush?"

"It means he digs you."

Her nose wrinkled. She didn't understand. For all her precociousness, she was still seven-years-old. He had to speak her language.

"He thinks you're pretty," he said.

She burst into a smile."Oh. My mommy says lots of boys do."

He chuckled. _Yeah, same old Jackie._

They walked on, and the trees thinned out. Jackie wanted to be put down, so he did as she asked, but she squeezed his hand tightly as voices boomed through the air like thunder. Huge picnic tables were set up on the grass. They were taller than him, and standing among them were four giants at least ten-feet tall—and rich from the looks of their tailored clothing. Their arms were covered in jewelry and fancy watches, and the scent of cologne and perfume mingled together in the chilled air.

The Giants were talking among themselves, enraptured by their own conversation. The sky had lightened to early evening, bright enough for Hyde to recognize two of them: a younger Pam and Jack Burkhart, Jackie's parents. He must have been seeing them from her perspective.

"There they are," Hyde said, but instead of running toward them, Jackie clung to his hand and stuck by his side. "What's up?"

"They keep forgetting about me."

"Just go up to 'em."

"N'uh-uh. They should see me. I'm right here!"

"So what do you wanna do?"

She sucked in a deep breath. "I wanna know what they'll do if I disappear forever."

He looked past her parents to the horizon. He wasn't ready to let her go, but the hills weren't far off, and this was her stop. "I've gotta get up those hills, see?"

"Why?"

"Not sure."

"Why?"

"Not sure of anything, except..." he cupped the back of Jackie's head and kissed the top of it, "you're a good kid. Loud, but a good kid. Your parents don't know what they're missing."

"They don't?" she said, and her eyes brimmed with fresh tears.

"Crap." He'd done what he so often did, said the wrong thing.

She reaffirmed her grip on his hand. "Will you miss me?"

"Already do."

"You don't have to," she said and tugged him forward.

"You're comin' with me?"

"Uh-huh."

"You sure?"

"Yes! Don' t make me kick you."

"Okay," he said and suppressed a smile. Her presence alone kept the frigid, creeping darkness from coating his innards. If he'd been in the real world, he would've been charged with kidnapping, probably been accused of being a child molester, too. But this wasn't the real world. He didn't know where the hell he was. It was Jackie's past and his nowhere, and his feelings for her weren't sexual. They were protective.

They moved ahead together, hand-in-hand, and Jackie's parents didn't react. They were too involved with their fellow Giants, and Hyde and Jackie were too small, too beneath their notice. No wonder the kid was so loud—and the older Jackie always talked so much. It was her only way to get what she needed.

"Jackie..." he stopped walking and knelt beside her, "hop on."

She climbed onto his back without hesitation, and her arms slid around the front of his neck. He straightened up and carried her piggyback-style through the park. She weighed practically nothing, so what had been his problem carrying her before? Earlier, only her screaming had gotten through to him, but she shouldn't have had to scream to get support.

He put a playful bounce in his step as they went on, and she giggled. Her laughter spilled joy into his body, but he wouldn't let himself smile. If he did that, if he gave into her light...

He'd lose her.

* * *

The morning had turned into early night in the east tower. The full moon was shining through the Scrying Glass—the tower's magical window—and over Red Riding Hood Forest. Eric had watched, wide-eyed, as the wolves transformed into animals. They were moving so much faster now, and Grayhead's pack had pulled significantly ahead of the rest. No Red Caps were in sight. Eric kept waiting for them to emerge from the trees, but Penny-Averill seemed unconcerned. Unlike him, she'd left the tower throughout the day, maybe to give orders to the Red Caps up north.

The full moon, the ring, and the wolves in the forest were all vying for Eric's attention. Those competing forces had trapped him inside the tower, but he couldn't sit still. He'd become a hornet's nest of movement, darting from one part of the small chamber to another, all the while gorging himself on different kinds of meat. Attendants kept delivering food to him, sausages and bacon, roasted rabbit and pheasant.

He was gnawing on a rabbit leg when Penny-Averill finally returned. Her expression was somber, and without acknowledging him, she went to the window. The Glass showed the City of Needles now. Wolves had passed through the gates. They surged over the streets without impediment, and within the streaks of black fur, he spotted gray.

"What happened?" he said. "Where are the Red Caps?"

"So many more went traitor than I expected..." Penny-Averill whispered. She had on her leather gloves, and the window focused on the head of the pack racing through Needles. Several indigo Wolfsbane pellets were in her hand. She tossed them through the Glass, but they missed the wolves by a wide margin. She grimaced and slapped the window sill. "Those naïve fools! Choosing the falsehood of love over loyalty! How could they?"

"They're young," Eric said.

"Yes, but you understand." She reached a hand to his face, and he shrank away. Her glove was coated in indigo Wolfsbane. "Oh, I'm sorry." She pulled off the gloves and tucked them into the folds of her cloak. "I sometimes forget you're one of them. That's how much I trust you."

Gooseflesh rose all over his body. If any of the indigo Wolfsbane residue had touched his skin, he would've died.

He maintained a safe distance from the window. The sill was no longer safe, sprinkled with Wolfsbane powder, but soon the wolves reached the castle's gatehouse. It was open and allowed Grayhead's pack entry.

"Where are they going?" he said. The window's view remained on the gatehouse.

"The Scrying Glass can't tell us. It looks outward only." She grasped both of his hands, which shot unseen ice into his skin, and gazed into his eyes. Hers were an incredible mix of emotion, fear and anticipation, anger and grief—just like her scent. "But you must know, Grayhead will be here in this tower." She glided one of her freezing palms up his arm and swept it over his chest, stopping short of his heart. "He's coming for the ring. He's coming to kill us."

"Should we leave?

"Where? Through the Scrying Glass?" Laughter splintered her grave mood. "Eric, we'd fall to our deaths. And even if we survived the fall, the wolves would tear us to pieces. Down the tower? The wolves will find us." She tweaked his nose gently. "You know that."

Eric grabbed the ring over his heart. It was burning with two kinds of fire, each fighting for dominance. He'd be forced to make a decision soon, but he needed more time.

"Is there..." he squeezed Penny-Averill's hand tightly, "is there any love in you? For me... for—for anyone?"

"Oh, Eric," her voice was cloyingly sweet, full of mock compassion; but she stroked his cheek with a warm touch, "no."

* * *

Kelso, Fez, and the Troll Nation army had come to the Belt, to the foothills of the Welkin Mountains, and they were greeted by horror. Nothing was left of the Fourth Kingdom army but blood and clothes. Kelso and Fez stopped their horses before getting too close, and the sight was so terrible that even the Trolls and their sovereigns froze in their march.

"What do you want us to do, Your Majesty?" Burly said.

Fez couldn't seem to form any words, so Kelso spoke for him. "Give me a minute to assess our situation."

He brought his horse toward the bloodbath. None of his training at the police academy had prepared him for this, and he pulled on the reins again before reaching the thick of the gore. Captain Cadell's white military uniform was among the blood-soaked...

As was Rhonda's Troll armor.

* * *

Fire was consuming Steven's living room, scorching the wooden floor and licking at the ceiling. The screen door had gotten too hot to stand by, and black smoke made Jackie cough and stung her eyes. She couldn't call for Steven anymore, but she had to get him out of there. He'd gone to his room. It had to have a window.

She sped down the porch steps and rushed to the west side of the house. Through half-shut and watery eyes, she saw him. He was trying to open his window, but it was stuck with an inch-wide crack at the bottom. She reached up, but the window was too high, so she dashed back to the porch. Hot black smoke had enveloped the wooden stairs, but she pulled up her shirt and covered her face. She groped blindly for the potted plants and found a pot that had to be at least two-feet tall. It was heavy, but she hauled it off the porch and pushed it to Steven's window. Then she poked her head free of her shirt.

He was banging on the window now, trying to break it. His room appeared to be smokeless. He must have covered the bottom of his door with a blanket.

"I'm coming!" she said between coughs and turned the pot over. Dirt dumped onto her shoes in the process, but she climbed onto the pot and stood up straight. She was high enough for her fingers to slip beneath the window's crack.

"What the hell are you doing?" Steven shouted.

"Helping you!"

"I don't need your damn help!"

"Yes, you do. Now shut up!" She tried to jerk the window open, but it wouldn't budge. Steven added his strength to it, but the window still wasn't moving. "We have to smash it with something!"

He glanced around his room. "I got nothin'!"

Jackie scanned the ground below her, but dirt wouldn't help them.

"Holy shit!" Steven banged frantically on the window, and she looked up. Flames had broken through his bedroom door. Black smoke was pouring in. "Get me outta here!" he said, and her left knee started to itch.

She peered down at her pants as the itch became a burn. Heat singed and frayed the fabric around her knee, revealing her scar. The elegant curve of it was glowing red-hot, and a tiny fish hook emerged from beneath it. She plucked the hook free, expecting to be scalded, but the metal was cool to the touch. It grew suddenly in her hand, expanding at least five times its size—no longer suitable for catching fish but for hanging meat.

"Watch out!" she shouted. Then she drew the meat hook back and bashed the window with it. The glass shattered but left a slicing, jagged hole to crawl through. She hit the glass again—up, down, left, and right—taking care of the sharp edges. Black smoke streamed out of the broken window, and Steven stuck his head and shoulders out with it.

"Move!" he said while coughing.

She tossed the meat hook behind her and jumped to the ground. Steven swung a leg over the metal window frame then the other, and he slipped down the side of the house to the pot.

"Let's go!" she said and grabbed his hand. He didn't argue except for his continuing coughs, and they raced from the house toward the hills. They stopped to catch their breath only when they were a safe distance away. Orange flames lit the house from the inside-out, so brightly that she and Steven shielded their eyes until the walls collapsed in a smoky fireball.

"You—you stuck around," he said, and she fought an overwhelming need to hug him. At his young age, he wouldn't appreciate it, but him being all right was enough for her.

"Of course I did.

"I woulda been toast if you'd... " He scratched the nape of his sooty neck and avoided her gaze. "Sorry for callin' you 'bitch'. You're pretty nice—for a girl."

"Not all women are like your mom. _Most_ aren't..." she fluffed her hair, and her hand came away sprinkled in black dust, "but most aren't as wonderful as me, either. Or as beautiful."

"Or as humble." He looked at her again and smirked. His face seemed more angular, a little older, and had he gotten taller? "Anyway, thanks."

"You're welcome." She glided her palm over the top of his blond curls. They were dusted with soot, too. "I have to go over those hills, but I can take you where you—" He charged ahead before she'd finished. She chased after him. "What are you doing?"

"My house is a pile of charcoal. I got no better place to go, lady."

"It's Jackie."

"Jackie?" He broke into his first smile. "That sounds like something a cat puked up." He began to laugh. "J-hackie! J-hackie!"

"That joke was never funny!"

He laughed some more. "It is to me."

"You know what's also funny?" She stopped walking for a moment, and he stopped, too. He intended to stick by her, apparently. "No matter how many times you burn me," she cradled his face with both hands and brushed soot off his cheeks, "I still love you."

He scowled between her hands. "Love? Crap, you're such a chick."

"A lot of people love you, Hyde. Not only me. I'm just the prettiest."

"Steven."

"What?

He pulled her hands from his face but not roughly. "You can call me 'Steven'."

"Oh. Thank you."

"But cut it with the 'love'-shit."

"Fine," she said, "I'll stop saying it. But just know I'm always gonna feel it."

"Whatever." His shoulders hunched. She'd made him uncomfortable, but he remained by her side all the way to the hills. These were nowhere near as steep as the first group she'd climbed and appeared walkable. "Where do they go?" he said as they traveled up the first hillside.

"I don't know." She glanced over her shoulder. Darkness had enshrouded his old neighborhood. It was just a memory now.

"Then why are we climbing them?"

"Because the sky grows brighter the higher we go. I want it to become as blue as your eyes.

He groaned. "Oh, man... this is gonna be a fun trip.

"Am I embarrassing you?"

"You're embarrassing yourself."

Jackie grew quiet. Even so young, his words were as sharp as barbed wire. They slashed at her innards. But the pain meant she cared enough about him for it to hurt, and for that much she was grateful. The curse had expelled her piece of him from her heart, but it hadn't banished him into exile. He must have wanted to be found by her, wherever they were.

They journeyed up the next two hills in silence, save for their breaths reflecting their effort. The sky was indeed brightening. They had to be going in the right direction, but as they crested the top of the second hill, Steven held her back. "I don't hate it," he said.

"Don't hate what?" she said.

"Your voice. You can keep talking." His own voice was gentler than before and deeper. He definitely looked older now, by at least two years.

"I appreciate the permission, but I think I'll stay quiet."

He shrugged as if it didn't matter to him. Then he pounded his feet into the dirt and shot forward, leaving her behind. He rocketed up the third hill, and she pumped her legs, desperate to catch him. How had she ever gotten through to that boy?

Then again, she'd just been defensive toward him, hadn't she? Rejecting his version of a compliment. He'd been so self-protective when they first started dating, veiling his feelings in an unpleasant veneer of misdirection. She had to remember that.

Toward the top of the third hill, he was slowing down, and she managed to snatch the back his shirt. She yanked him to her, meaning to lock her arms around his stomach, and he rammed an elbow into her ribs. She gasped and let him go.

"Don't fuckin' do that!" he shouted.

She doubled over, in shock more than in pain, and tears filled her eyes. "Do—do what?"

"Grab me, man!" His shoulder was no longer purple, but the bruise had absorbed into his blood. She could feel it.

"I'm sorry," she said and rubbed her side. He'd never physically hurt her before. Even when the curse plunged him into horrible memories, the worst he'd done was shove her away. But she'd essentially attacked him, used her taller height and strength to her advantage. He was only defending himself. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I won't do it again."

He stepped up to her and eased his hand into one of hers. He said nothing, but his own apology was etched on his face. She knew the expression. His remorse and shame were unmistakable, but how many times had he forgiven the bruises she gave him? The kicks that left purple splotches on his shins?

They climbed again in silence, hill-after-hill, and shame swelled into every corner of herself. Only a pinprick of emotional space was left when, finally, they surmounted the last peak. Daylight didn't fill the sky above, but the sun seemed just below the horizon. The ground beneath them was dry and cracked, reflecting how she now felt.

"So, here we are," Steven said, and he walked backward from the plateau's edge. He was taller now by a good three-inches and older by another two years. His cheeks were still smooth and hairless, but his shoulders had grown broader and his voice even deeper. He was becoming a teenager. "Looks like a bust, man."

The fissured earth expanded in every direction except the one they came from. She didn't understand what she was supposed to do, where she was supposed go next, but when she moved forward, the ground began to shake.

"Whoa—" Steven stumbled then widened his stance.

"Go b—back down," Jackie said. She hurried behind him and pushed him toward the plateau's edge. "I was wrong! You shouldn't have come with me," but he dug in his heels.

"G—go back d—down to wha—at?" he said. His voice was vibrating with the ground's increasing tremors.

"S—safety!" She tried to shove him forward, but a violent quake threw her back. She slammed into the fissured ground, and it crumbled at the impact, opening into a gaping hole. Her hands scrambled to find purchase, but she fell past the hole's lip, unable to grasp a blessed thing.

* * *

Hyde lowered seven-year-old Jackie to the grassy ground. He'd scaled the last hill, carrying her all the while on his back. The strength in her tiny body had surprised him. She'd held onto him tightly, keeping her face buried in the back of his hair. For such a loudmouth, though, she'd stayed mostly silent.

"Whatcha think?" he said now and studied their surroundings. The sky was no longer dark. It had to be just before dawn, but what the approaching day revealed wasn't impressive. Grassland sprawled everywhere and little else. "Great..." he blew out a forceful breath, "now what?"

Jackie tugged on his arm. "I'm going to die."

He picked her back up and held her securely in his arms. "Naw, you got a long life of aggravating me to look forward to." But her head drooped against his neck. Her hair dried-up and became brittle before snapping off. "Hey," he bounced her gently, and her huge, shining eyes peeked up at him. "You can't go, Sunlight," he said, and panic rose in his chest. Her skin was browning and shriveling against her bones. "You gotta—you gotta stick around."

"Why?" Her small, skeletal hand reached for his chin then turned to ash. The rest of her followed, becoming dust in his arms, and her remains poured onto grass like sand. He dropped to his knees as darkness seeped back inside him, and he sifted through his fingers what was left of her.

* * *

Barks were echoing through the dungeon.

Donna grabbed a wooden chair inside her cell. Red had long been awake. The Troll dust had worn off, and he shoved the wooden table up against the bars. He grabbed a chair, too. Then he pulled Donna back against the stone wall. "I'm not dreaming," he said as the barks grew louder.

"No, but I wish like hell were both were!" she said.

Their meager defenses would buy them maybe a few seconds of life before the wolves' jaws ripped out their throats, but Red Caps arrived first—five in all. They unlocked the cell, and the wolves followed with gnashing teeth. Torches cast orange light on their black fur, but Donna's attention was drawn to the strangely calm wolf in the back. His fur was gray.

The Red Caps entered the cell, teenagers, and Red seemed hesitant to go on the offensive, but Donna thrust her chair in front of her. "Just try it!" she said.

"Oh, we don't have to try," a Red Cap said.

One of the wolves charged and clamped Donna's ankle between his jaws. He yanked her to the floor, but Red dove at him.

"I didn't kill a bunch of commies to be done-in by mangy dogs!" Red shouted and drew back his fist, but a Red Cap hurled a Wolfsbane pellet at him. It burst into blue powder over his neck, and he stiffened like a wax dummy.

He was paralyzed.

The wolf shook him off, but Donna was free of the wolf's jaws. Remarkably, her ankle hadn't been crushed. It was just bleeding a little, but the wolf pounced on her before she could move and held her down. His eyes flashed orange, and suddenly her body was oversensitized. The ground was freezing beneath her. The wolf's paws dug into collar bone, and his breath tickled her eyelashes. He'd hypnotized her, making her lose all sense of time as a Red Cap mashed several Wolfsbane pellets into her palm.

Soon, all sensation left her along with the ability to control her body. She couldn't even blink, and her lungs breathed steadily despite the terror she felt. The wolf was kind enough to close her eyelids with his muzzle, but as he did, she caught a glimpse of his tail. It was kinked, just like Wolf's.


	68. The World Falls Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

CHAPTER 68  
 **THE WORLD FALLS DOWN**  


"Rose petals?" Kelso said. He was crouching in the blood and dirt. "Fez, get over here!"

Fez's heart was hardening in the foothills of the Welkin mountains, where his men and his love had been slaughtered by wolves, and his eyes were fixed on Rhonda's Troll armor. The spiked leather was splashed crimson, but he dismounted his horse and shoved the reins into a Troll's knobby hand.

"What is it, Kelso?" Fez didn't quite join his friend by the carnage, preferring a safe distance while the remnants of his vulnerability calcified.

Kelso bounded to him instead. Clenched in his fist was clump of rose petals. "The blood, man. It isn't blood." He grabbed Fez wrist and forced him to Rhonda's armor. Kelso knelt down again, and Fez's eyes widened as Kelso's fingers dipped into the wet blood and came away with solid rose petals.

"Need seeds," Fez whispered. "Could it be?" He dropped to his knees and scooped Rhonda's blood into his hand. It fluttered over his fingers as rose petals.

"Dude, she's gotta be alive." Kelso swept his arm over the empty, crimson-soaked uniforms of the Fourth Kingdom army. "Maybe they all are!"

Fez patted Kelso's shoulder and allowed himself to hope. "Let's find out."

They both remounted their horses and led the Trolls over the foothills—over trails of blood that turned to rose petals beneath the horses' hooves—until they came to a valley. Hundreds of giant roses jutted from the dirt, perhaps thousands. Thorns surrounded each bloom like barbed wire.

"Open those flowers," Fez ordered the Trolls, "but be careful! People could be inside." Then he and Kelso set to work themselves, using their knives to cut through a rose's thorny fence. It wasn't an easy task, but together they managed. They sliced into a thick petal, tore it back, and inside the bloom was one of Fez's men, naked and sleeping.

With the rose's support gone, the man toppled onto Fez, and Fez shook the man's shoulders lightly. "Wh—what?" the man said with a yawn. "Your Majesty?"

"Yes. What happened?"

"I—I don't rightly know, sir. The wolves..." the man glanced around the valley, "they outnumbered us five-to-one, and the Red Caps—they turned traitor. All of them. Started pelting us with powerful Wolfsbane. Our men went down, paralyzed. After that, I can't remember."

"Glad you're still with us, Galterio," Kelso said.

"Thank you, Sir Kelso."

Fez and Kelso left Galterio with orders to stay put, and they set off to open more roses. The Trolls had already opened several dozen, and inside was Fez's army. His men were mostly undamaged, except for the few who didn't escape the wolves' jaws. The luckier of the injured had suffered only bite wounds. The worst were dead, and Fez's heart didn't soften back into blood, not until a Troll shouted, "I found her! Our Champion!"

Fez dashed between roses not yet opened. Thorns snagged his uniform and tore it, but he arrived unhurt a fair distance across the valley. A groggy and nude Rhonda was in the arms of a Troll, who held her up with an expression of awe on his face.

"Rhonda!" Fez took her in his arms and ran his fingers through her matted hair. "Talk to me, Mashed Potato. Talk to me."

"Fezzy?" She blinked, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. "Oh, my God—Fez!" Her hands knotted behind his back and squeezed him tightly. "The wolves overran us! Thousands of 'em. Those stinkin' Red Caps betrayed us!" Her hands moved up his back to his hair, and they brushed through it roughly. "I thought I'd never see you again, but I took out those seeds I stole from Eric—"

"You _stole_ his need seeds?" Fez was laughing, and he pulled away from her a little. He had to see his beloved's face. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was breathing fast, but all that meant was that she was alive, gloriously alive.

"Not all of them," she said. "Just two. I left him one. They saved our lives, Coco Puff. When I saw the battle was un-winable, I tossed 'em into the dirt. A cloud of rose petals burst into the air, bafflin' both the wolves and the Red Caps. The next thing I know, I'm naked and trapped inside a rose and shooting like a rocket over the hills until, I guess, we stopped here. I don't really understand it—"

Fez nodded. "Need seeds are mysterious things. Some say the magic in them is as old as the land itself." His voice was at a normal volume, but he barely heard what he was saying. Right now, he wasn't a king. He was simply a grateful man, and he indulged himself a kiss to Rhonda's soft, unharmed lips.

Afterward, the Troll who'd found her lent Rhonda his dagger, and she helped with the effort to free the Fourth Kingdom army. Eventually, all of Fez's men were accounted for, including the broad-shouldered Captain Cadell. His smooth, dark skin gleamed in the moonlight. Aesthetically, he was a beautiful man, and when Rhonda glanced at his nakedness, Fez couldn't blame her. The whole the Fourth Kingdom army was standing in the valley nude.

"It's like we're at a Fifth Kingdom beer-and-sausage festival," Cadell said. "We've got to go back and retrieve our uniforms and weapons."

The Troll sovereigns—Burly, Blabberwort, and Bluebell—gave their army orders to surround Fez's men protectively, and Fez and Kelso led the charge back over the hills on their horses.

Rhonda was sitting securely behind Fez on the saddle. His white jacket was buttoned over her chest, and her arms held him around the stomach. He felt better than he had in days, but the wolves' first wave had surely reached Red Riding Hood Castle by now. They would take the kingdom if none of Penny's Red Caps remained loyal. Fez's friends were the Nine Kingdom's last hope.

He shared his fears with Rhonda as their horse galloped through rose petals and over the hills. "I have faith in them, Fezzy," she whispered by his ear.

He smiled back at her. "And I have faith in you."

* * *

Young Jackie's dust was falling through Hyde's fingers, but that was always the way. Whatever he loved slipped through his grasp. At the top of the last hill, beneath a slowly brightening sky, he couldn't stop grabbing fistfuls of her remains. It didn't belong scattered on the grassy plain, not alone. He considered stuffing her remains into his pockets, but as the dust fell over his palm, it deposited a ruby cut into the shape of a heart.

"Jackie?" he said, and the heart shone with the same light as the sunflower, the same love in young Jackie's huge eyes. His fingers wrapped around it. Her essence was inside, beating... _ticking?_

He flipped the ruby heart to its other side. A crude mechanical timer was embedded in the back, counting down, and the heart grew hotter as the seconds ticked by.

"I'm not lettin' go of this," he said and got to his feet. "Don't care if it blows up in my hand, I'm not letting it go." He started walking in the grass. He didn't know or give a crap where he was going, but as long as he had Jackie's heart, wherever he ended up would be home.

* * *

Grayhead's wolves were climbing up the east tower stairs. Eric could smell and hear them. Anything he said to Penny, they were sure to hear, too, so he communicated non-verbally. He made a few gestures, and she seemed to understand. In moments, she had on a leather glove and her pouch of indigo Wolfsbane was in her hand, same as him. If Grayhead wanted the ring, if he wanted the Second Kingdom, he'd have to risk death to get it.

Eric's reflexes were quick. With Penny fighting beside him, he'd take out Grayhead and his pack before their jaws got anywhere near his or Penny's throats.

That was the plan, anyway, but two other scents rose through the tower. They stole Eric's breath and compressed his heart into a baleful diamond, like the blue one dangling over his chest. Those two scents weren't supposed to be here, not _them._

With a chorus of yips, wolves emerged into the chamber from the stairwell. They were moving slowly, and their paws quietly padded on the flagstones. A curtain of red hair was draped over the kinked tail of a wolf—over _Wolf._ Donna was lashed to his back by thick ropes. Red Caps must have done it, and bound to another wolf was Eric's father, _Red._

Eric tied the pouch of Wolfsbane back onto his belt. Using it was out of the question now. He could hit Red, who was a wolf himself in human form, and kill him. Penny, however, seemed to have no such qualms. She raised a fistful of indigo pellets high over her head as Grayhead nosed his way behind Red and Donna's unmoving bodies. The torch light flickered against his fur as it did the gray-brick walls, which were effectively camouflaging him.

He was using Eric's family as a shield, and he snarled, but his eyes communicated far more. They were focused on Eric's chest and flashing orange, but then they flicked toward Penny. Grayhead would kill Eric to get the ring, his eyes were saying, but Penny would die first.

"Give me the ring, Eric," Penny said under her breath. Her back was pressed against the chamber wall, and the Wolfsbane in her hand hovered dangerously close to the nape of Eric's neck. "Now!"

She sounded both frightened and enraged. Her scent was heavily mingled with her mother's, but she was hesitating to kill him, and Eric didn't move. The ring was blazing over his heart, burning with its own war, and the fire coursed through his veins.

"Eric, don't make me do this!" Her Wolfsbane inched closer to his neck. Grayhead was growling, and several of his wolves approached, but still Eric didn't move.

A small stretch of the chamber floor remained between Penny and the wolves. Eric considered thrusting his own finger into the ring, but he wouldn't be able to control its power.

Finally, though, as the wolves moved within pouncing distance, the blaze over his heart shifted. The sensation overwhelmed him to laughter, and he pulled the ring and its chain over his head. Penny could be trusted now, fully, and he passed the ring into her hands.

* * *

Thirteen-year-old Steven clamped his hand around Jackie's wrist.

He was crouching at the lip of chasm and digging his heels into the crumbling dirt. She dangled perilously in his grasp and dared not look down. The ground continued to quake all around them, and he'd be pulled into the darkness with her if he didn't let go.

"No!" she shouted. "Get out of here! Go back to the hills!"

But he reached for her other wrist and crashed onto his stomach. Dirt flew into Jackie's face. She coughed but never removed her gaze from him. Was he growing older again? The beginnings of sideburns surfaced on his cheeks. His arms were longer, his fingers thicker, and he was sliding over the edge of the chasm.

"Steven, let go! _Please!_ "

"No damn way, Jackie!" His voice had deepened to a man's, and his sideburns had fully grown in. Scruffy blond hair fell over his forehead. He was sixteen or seventeen, the boy she'd fallen in love with, and the hand that didn't hold her was clutching at the shaking ground, trying to find purchase.

She kept her body as still for him as possible. If she thrashed her legs around, she'd only quicken both their deaths. "I don't want to take you with me!" she cried and tears drowned her vision, but through them she caught a glimpse of bright blue sky—or maybe it was Steven's eyes.

"Too late," he said. "If you go, we're both goin'. Even if these are the last seconds I get to have with you, they're mine. I'm not losing 'em."

Jackie willed her tears to dry up, like the cracked and disintegrating ground beneath Steven "Why?"

"Being with you makes me happy." His head, shoulders, and half his chest were over the lip of the chasm now. Only his feet and maybe will power kept him from tumbling into the abyss with her. "Felt cursed my whole damn life—like whatever good shit I had would be stolen or broken if I enjoyed it too much." His eyes were shining wetly but with so much warmth, and his muscular arms had regained all their adult strength, but the quaking earth was crumbling around him and pouring dirt onto Jackie's face. "But you broke that curse, doll. You broke my fuckin' curse!"

He strained to lift her higher, to grab onto her shirt, but she was simply too heavy for him in his unstable position, and she refused to help him die. Her free arm was limp at her side, but she moved it up, intending to pry his fingers off her wrist.

"Always thought you were tickin' away in my hand," he said, "like a bomb set to take me out, but even with what Forman's nutbag relatives tried to do to us—might _still_ do in the next three seconds—I still got you. Jackie, I let myself have you."

"Oh, God..." She stopped short of tearing his fingers from her skin—of taking herself away from him—and grasped onto his forearm with her free hand. "Pull me up! Pull me up!"

At her words, Steven's strength seemed to double. He heaved her up and over the chasm's lip while worming his way back onto the shaking, cracked earth. She slammed onto the ground next to him, too shocked and frightened to move except for cupping his shoulder blindly.

He moved for them both, standing up and scooping her into his arms. He bolted with her from the chasm, from the parched, fissured earth to a plain of thick green grass. The ground here didn't quake, and he put her down on it. She hugged his waist and looked up at him, looked into his eyes. They were the same color as the sky above, as bright and blue as the cursed blue diamond.

"Oh, no..." she said. "Steven, we're inside it. We're inside the ring!"

He slid his palms over her cheeks, "Don't care," and leaned in for a kiss, but a boom of thunder thrust them apart. She fell and landed hard on her butt, but she pushed herself up and raced back toward him as lightning shattered the sky into a hundred thousand pieces. .

She hurled herself into his body, and his arms wrapped around her back. Thunder continued to roar and lightning continued to break the sky, and darkness seeped into the air. "Do you care now?" she said.

"Nope," he said, but he held her tighter, and his breath mingled with hers as they watched the end of the world—of _their_ world—together.

* * *

Eric stood passively as Penny held up her hand. The cursed ring encircled her middle finger, and moonlight from the magical window shone against the blue diamond. "Oh, you pathetic animals!" she said, and the approaching wolves hesitated to strike. "You mean nothing to me now."

Grayhead dashed forward, beyond the wolves squatting on their haunches in terror. Intoxicated laughter spilled from Penny's body, and he leapt at her. His jaws snapped at her hand, but she was too quick. His teeth gnashed empty air, and then her laughter stopped.

The ring's diamond radiated light brighter than the full moon. It filled every corner of the chamber, but Eric didn't shield his eyes. An absence of light, however, shadowed Penny's face—had to be the spirit of her mother, Averill—and she let out a mangled cry before collapsing to her knees. Her fingers clawed at her blonde hair, and the wolves whined and huddled together in the ring's all-encompassing brilliance.

Grayhead had the perfect opportunity to take what he wanted—the ring, Penny's life—but he howled a mournful howl. An overwhelming feeling of warmth, of _love,_ had flooded into the chamber along with a suffocating portion of the wolves' first wave.

Eric pressed himself flat against the back wall, keeping his attention on Donna and Red. They were still tied to the wolves' backs. He ached desperately to reach them, but the pain of losing Laurie rushed into his chest. The feeling threatened to bring him to his knees, just as Laurie's death had...

And then the ring's light pushed out his grief. Memories poured in of childhood summers with Laurie—of games of tag, crazy afternoons in the pool, and shared ice cream. Autumn races across Pleasant Field, winter snowball fights, and springtime picnics with their parents. All the joy his sister had ever brought to his life was circulating through his system now and giving him strength..

Was the same thing happening to Grayhead and his wolves? To Penny and Averill? Were they re-experiencing the loss of their mothers and beloveds, their sisters and children, but with no joy to chase away the grief?

Eric intended to use their distraction to untie Donna and Red, but a wolf reached him first. He was the smallest and youngest of Grayhead's pack, Ullock. He had something in his mouth, and he dropped it into Eric's hand— _Gretel's shriveled severed ear._ It smelled unmistakably like Grayhead, as if his scent permeated every dead cell.

"Wolves," Eric shouted and held up the ear, "you've been misled!" He looked at the magical window and willed it to show the wolves still outside the castle. Several of them had Gretel's casket surrounded. "Queen Riding Hood the Third didn't kill Queen Gretel," he continued. "No, one of your own has done it to spur you into bloodshed!"

Most of the wolves in the chamber didn't respond. They remained cowering in the ring's light, but some peeked up their muzzles and growled.

"You don't believe me?" Eric said. "Then smell it for yourself."

He tossed the ear into the thick of the wolves. A cascade of yips and barks bounced off the chamber walls, and Grayhead recovered his senses enough to bound out of the magical window. Wolves followed him in droves, jumping through the Scrying Glass until the only ones left in the chamber were Wolf and Ullock. Red's unmoving body was on the floor between them. His ropes had been chewed off, but Donna was still tied to Wolf.

Eric spared a glance through the window. Grayhead and the other wolves had landed safely below on the castle grounds, but Grayhead's body soon disappeared beneath a flurry of white teeth and black fur. Eric turned away. He had no stomach to watch.

Wolf padded up to him with Donna on his back, and Eric knelt down. He unknotted the ropes that bound her, pulled her body gently to the floor, and laid her head on his lap. She was completely stiff, as she'd been paralyzed by Wolfsbane.

"I'm sorry," he said and caressed her face. "Donna, I'm so sorry." He kissed her unmoving lips and clutched her rigid hand. "I had to do this, to give Hyde and Jackie time. You've got to feel them. They're with us somehow, beaming from the ring."

Behind him, Penny was crumpled in a heap and sobbing. Words were buried within her cries, as she were pleading if with someone: "I couldn't kill them. You told me to kill them, but you weren't enough. They're my family... I need them... all I have!"

On her finger, the ring's blue diamond had fractured, and the hatred it once contained was gone from Eric's heart. Had it left her heart as well? Had her mother abandoned her? Averill's scent was no longer present in the chamber.

He kissed Donna's lips again then went to Penny. "Hey," he said, but she didn't respond. He was afraid to touch her, but he hoped his words would reach her somewhere. "You may not love anyone, Penny, but—but I love you. And I'm glad you're alive."

Ullock whimpered from across the chamber. He was standing by Red and nudging Gretel's ear with nose. Eric walked over him and scratched the top of his head. Ullock was just a cub, not even thirteen-years-old, and braver than Eric could've hoped to be at that age.

"You convinced Grayhead to give you this?" Eric said and picked up Gretel's ear. Ullock barked once, an affirmative. "Well, I don't know if it means anything coming from me, but I'm really proud of you."

Ullock barked again and nuzzled Eric's side.

Eric gave him another affectionate cuddle then crouched by Red. Red's eyes were closed, and his breathing was steady. He had to be paralyzed by Wolfsbane, too, like Donna.

"Dad," Eric said, but Wolf tugged on Eric's sleeve with his mouth and pulled him to the window.

Red Riding Hood Forest was teeming with the wolves' second wave. They would be at the city of Needles within minutes. Eric stuck his head through the Scrying Glass, which felt like plunging into cold water, until his face emerged into the night air above the wolves.

"Grayhead murdered Gretel!" he said, wasting no time. "He duped you" The wolves all raised their heads and barked at him, challenging him to prove it. He brought the ear through the window and dropped it. "His own pack turned against him once they learned the truth." The ear plummeted to the forest floor, and wolves swarmed around it. "He's dead, but you can end the bloodshed!"

Groups of wolves were sniffing at the ear. They broke off when they seemed convinced and bolted in the direction opposite the castle. More wolves filled the gaps around the ear. Then they, too, retreated into forest.

Eric spent an indulgent moment staring at the full moon before withdrawing his head from the window. Penny's soft crying entered his ears first, agitating him with concern, but the sight awaiting him in the chamber deafened him to her. Donna was sitting up, and her smile was far more enticing, far more beautiful than the full moon could ever aspire to be.

* * *

Wolves, thousands and thousands of them, fled through the forest and over the Welkin foothills. The men of the Fourth Kingdom army had put on their uniforms and sheathed their rapiers. They were directly in the wolves' path, and Captain Cadell and the Troll sovereigns ordered everyone to take attack positions.

"No! They are retreating!" Fez shouted.

"How do you know?" Kelso said. His rapier was out, and he held blue Wolfsbane in his gloved hand.

"Don't you feel it?" Fez said. "Jackie and Hyde broke the curse! The land is overflowing with them—with their love."

"Is that why I don't feel like bashing in wolf skulls?" Bluebell said. The Troll sovereign seemed quite miffed, but he lowered his dagger.

"Yes!" Fez said. "Stand down! Everybody, stand down!"

Those were his last words as wolves charged through the battle lines. They didn't attack. They kept on running, and he found it hard to remain upright in the flood of furry bodies. He, Rhonda, and Kelso clung to one another for stability as the wolves swept past them. The horses reared and squealed, but when at last the foothills were clear, and the wolves had disappeared below into the woods, the air rang with Trollish laughter.

"Puny dogs!" Burly shouted. "They must have smelled us miles away!" He brushed a hand through his oily black hair and looked quite satisfied.

Blabberwort raised her sword and punched her bronze breastplate. "Victory for the Troll Nation! We have won renown throughout the Nine Kingdoms!"

"What about the Red Caps?" Rhonda said. "And Grayhead?"

"That, we must find out," Fez said, "among other things. The claim of victory could be premature. "

Bluebell waved a dismissive hand. "Pah!" but his siblings were not so hasty.

"Our dad used to say, 'Pah!'" Burly said, "and looky-look where that got him!"

"Beheaded by the Evil Queen," Blabberwort said. "I, for one, do not want my head on a stake. Not nice."

"Fine!" Bluebell crossed his arms and hunched his shoulders. "We'll go to Queen Riding Hood's castle and assure our victory."

The horses were too spooked to be ridden, so Fez and Kelso passed the reins off to members of Fez's army. The march ahead would take some time, but Fez no longer worried for his safety or that of Rhonda and Kelso. His and the Trolls' armies together outnumbered the first wave of wolves by a good measure. His fears about Jackie and Hyde were allayed, as well. He felt their presence all around him and inside his heart.

No, it was Eric and Donna he was most concerned about. If Grayhead had made it to the castle, if Penny had used Eric's vulnerability against him...

Fez shook these thoughts from his head. He was making up stories. Tales needed to be written after events occurred, not before, but he prayed Eric and Donna's story was not ending in misery.

* * *

In the castle's east tower, Penny hadn't moved from her huddled, weeping state against the wall, but the uncursed ring had fallen to the floor. Its shattered blue diamond posed no threat anymore, and Eric closed his fist around it. Wolf and Ullock were keeping guard by the stairwell. Red was finally regaining movement, and Donna was wiping tears from her cheeks. She'd cried into Eric's shoulder after he'd explained himself.

"I almost stopped trusting you," she'd said, "I was so close, Eric..." but now she produced a ring of her own from her pants' pocket, Eric's golden wedding ring. "You left this for me on purpose, as a message to hold on."

"Yes." His heart fluttered as she slid the ring back up his left ring finger. "You could've taken my removal of it either way, but I..."

She slipped her arms around his hips and drew him in, and the kiss that followed communicated all he needed to feel from her. Afterward, he placed Jackie's no-longer cursed ring on her palm.

She studied it by the window, in the light of the moon. "Hate transformed," she said. "Jackie and Hyde turned the power of the curse into something good... but where are they?"

"I don't know, but maybe Fez and Kelso do."

"And where are _they?_ "

"I don't know that, eith—wait." He thrust a finger into the air then pointed to the window. "Do you know what that is?" Donna shook her head. "That, m'lady, is what's called a Scrying Glass. Watch."

He turned his thoughts toward Fez and Kelso, and the window's view sped past the buildings of Needles and into the forest miles away. Fez, Kelso, and Rhonda were walking through the trees together. They were surrounded by at least a thousand of Fez's white-uniformed men and thousands more of leather-clad Trolls. Fez must have asked for the Troll Nation's help.

"See?" Eric was grinning. "I told you it was a good idea for Fez to pardon the Troll King's kids."

Donna let out an incredulous chuckle. "You've got to be kidding me," but she also squeezed his waist with affection, "are you actually gloating?"

"A little." He moved his head forward, meaning to stick it through the window, but she held him back.

"What are you doing?" she said.

"It's okay, Donna. I'm just gonna stick my face into the sky and let Fez know everything's all right."

"But you don't know if everything's all right on his end—or what his pact is with the Trolls. Let him keep his guard up and come to the castle."

"Growing suspicious in your young age?" he said.

She spread her arms wide, indicating the chamber and maybe even beyond. "After all this? Yeah."

He grasped her hand, knowing she could be right. He had to play things cautiously. The castle was probably full of Red Caps, and even with the curse broken and Hyde and Jackie's love permeating—well, _everything—_ who knew what side the Red Caps were on?

"Eric..." Red said, "your cousin's a dumbass." His voice was weak, but he was finally able to move and had sat up against the wall.

"Dad," Eric hurried to his side and knelt down, "you're dreaming. This is all one big dream—"

"Shut it. I know when I'm sleeping and when I'm awake. My eyes might've been closed, but I heard every damn thing." Red sat up straighter, and his eyes pierced Eric's gaze—not with judgment, not with anger and disappointment, but with tenderness. And he cupped Eric's knee just as tenderly, the way he used to when Eric was a kid.. "You did great, son."

"What?"

"How you handled Penny. How you handled all of this. You've got a lot your mother in you. I never realized..." Red swallowed, much like Eric did when he was uncomfortable. "That's—that's nothing to be ashamed of. She couldn't kill a deer either."

"I killed a wild boar," Eric said, "and, um..." Red's hand was still on his knee. Donna had crouched beside him, and a year's worth of shame poured from his mouth. "I killed Laurie."

Red's face flushed, and a moist fog had settled in his throat. "You saved her—"

"No."

"Goddamn it, Eric, don't argue with me. Donna filled me in when we were behind those bars. I didn't buy any of it. Even when those little girls and their dogs attacked me, I didn't. But now, hell if I know why, I _feel_ the Goddamn truth," Red pressed a fist to his chest, " _right here._ You saved her, son..." He glanced down at his other hand, the one on Eric's knee. A braid of scarlet hair, his mother's, was tied around his wrist. "You saved all of us."

He fell into silence, and when he finally spoke again, his voice had broken. "After everything you've been through, after everything you've done..." he glanced back up at Eric with moisture thick over his eyes, "I couldn't be more proud."

* * *

Jackie's consciousness had returned to her body. She was flesh and blood again and lying in a meadow of wildflowers. The night sky enveloped her like a blanket of glittering stars. The waning gibbous moon glowed high above, but shining brighter than it was the pearly gazebo behind her head. Someone had brought her to the Elf-protected bubble of Red Riding Hood Forest.

"Steven?" she said.

"Yeah." His hand, soft and warm, clutched hers in the grass. Without looking, she inched closer to him then rolled her way onto his stomach. "Oof!" His forced-out breath turned into a chuckle, and his fingers glided over her back. "Welcome aboard."

"No pain?" she said.

"None."

"My name?"

"Jackie," he said.

"And how do you feel about me?"

His palm swept over the nape of her neck and into the back of her hair. He eased her head down toward his face until their lips were touching. "More than 'I love y—' _mff._ "

She kissed him, mouth pressing deep past his lips, and his love for her—his fundamental self—flowed through her body, reoccupying the spaces the curse had ejected him from. He resided within her heart again, where he belonged, and she lost herself to the sensation, trusting that she, too, had returned home inside of him.

Soon—or perhaps it had taken a while; she had no sense of time—they were both naked in the wild flowers, and his body filled her up as his love did. Their cheeks grazed against each other hotly. Their hands dug into each other's backs. They were tumbling in the meadow playfully even as they made love, and their voices expressed their delight and more until their connection reached its peak and their rhythm lost cohesiveness.

They climaxed, not together but close enough, and they kissed each other deliriously as they came down. Afterward, she was content to lie on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. Her fingers looped into his curls and lazily scratched at his scalp, and then—and only then—did she realize a good chunk of his hair was missing.

She sat up in the grass, alarmed, and he sat up, too. "What?" he said.

"Your hair..." She covered her mouth to stifle her laughter. "The top—the top of your head looks like someone cut it with garden shears."

"Yeah, well, yours is messed up, too." He flicked the choppy ends above her right ear.

"No!" Her amusement turned to horror as she felt her own mutilated locks. "I spent eight months growing this out! Who did this to us?"

"Whoever brought us here," he said and gently pulled her hand from her hair. "I think it looks swell. I'll shave my 'fro into a monk's tonsure. We can turn Sunlight and the Blue Sky into an ironic punk outfit." He plucked a marigold from the meadow and placed it above her right ear. "If we can survive fucked-up hair, we can survive anything, right?"

"Steven..." She burst out laughing and embraced him. The touch of his warm, bare skin returned her to the serenity of their lovemaking, along with a replay of it inside her mind, and then she gasped—not unhappily. "Baby, you didn't use a condom.

"Shit."

"What if—what if I...?"

"Shit!"

She smoothed a hand over her stomach, and somehow she sensed she wasn't pregnant. It was probably due to the magic of this place, and her not-pregnant state didn't upset her, but teasing Steven a little couldn't hurt. "If we can survive bad hair," she said, "we can survive anything, right?"

"Uh..."

"I know you don't want to have children, but we'll make it work."

"Jackie—"

"Ooh, if it's a boy, we'll name him Steven James Hyde the Fourth. And if it's a girl—"

"Jackie, you're not pregnant."

She grimaced. "Damn! You can feel it, too?"

"Yup..." his finger stroked the curve of her shoulder, "but we'll have kids someday."

"We'll—what?"

"It doesn't scare me anymore."

She took both his hands and squeezed them tenderly. "It scared you?"

"A lot of crap did. I'm not saying the idea of me bein' a dad isn't freaky, but with you..." a peacefulness flowed over his words, "when it's time, it'll be great."

Jackie said nothing, merely held him close and allowed herself the joy of his presence. Finally, she understood what Laurie had been trying to tell her inside the ring. Accepting Steven's support wasn't dependence; it was allowing him to love her—just as he allowed her to love him.

* * *

Kitty opened the door to the house before Red could even knock.

"Oh, my God—Red!" She thrust herself into his arms, and he tried to explain himself, why he'd gone missing, but she hushed him with kisses and pulled him off the stoop into the living room. "Laurie told me you were coming home," she said. "She told me a lot of other things, too, and after a bottle of wine, I started to believe it."

Kitty began to share what she'd learned, and he tried not to laugh as it all flew from her mouth in a whir. He caught a few distinct terms, like "wolf," "your mother," and "Traveling mirror," and he felt secure their daughter had sufficiently clued her in.

"You're lucky," he said afterward. "I didn't even get to have a beer when Donna gave me the story." He reaffirmed his hold around Kitty's waist and breathed her in for a few moments. "Anyway, I'm just glad to be home... with you."

"Me, too. More than glad." She laid her head on his chest and remained quiet for a while. Then she glanced up and said, "Is Eric—?"

"He's fine. He needs to do a few things. Should be back with Donna in maybe a week. Kitty..." his throat tightened, but she deserved to hear what she'd been waiting to hear from him, "we raised a good man."

She broke into a smile and patted his heart. "Yes, we did."

* * *

A little after dawn, Fez, Rhonda, and Kelso arrived at the glimmering, Elf-protected bubble of the forest. Eric and Donna were with them, and past the curtain of light, they found Jackie and Hyde drinking from a brook. It fed into the sparkling pond, and Hyde glanced up as water streamed over his cupped hands.

"'Bout time you showed," he said. "How long?"

Fez's delight at seeing them put a goofy grin on his face. "A week," he said, but for Jackie and Hyde, only a night should have passed. "Much has happened."

Hyde got to his feet, and Jackie stood with him, but before anything else was said, the seven of them embraced one another. Hyde roughed-up the back of Eric's hair. Jackie affectionately pressed her temple against Donna's. Kelso and Rhonda flexed their biceps, ever-competing and showing off to their friends, and Fez squeezed out a few unkingly tears.

Afterward, Hyde and Jackie asked everyone, "What happened?" just as everyone asked them the same thing.

"We'll go first," Jackie said. She stepped back and fluffed her hair; then she scowled. "Wait, who did this to me—to _us?_ " She pointed to the shredded locks above her right ear and to the top of Hyde's shorn curls.

Fez and Kelso glanced at each other. "Gravity," they said together.

Jackie slapped them both on the chest, "You morons dropped us, didn't you?" and then she and Hyde—well, mostly she—shared their experiences inside the cursed ring. "The sky split open in thousands of places," she said at the end, "and everything went pitch black. The next thing I know, I'm here with Steven."

Eric pulled the now-uncursed ring from the chain around his neck. Its blue diamond was cracked.

Hyde scratched the back of his neck. "Huh."

"Steven," Jackie patted his arm, "I'm not wearing that."

"No shit," he said and grasped her hand. "Okay, Forman, you ain't dead, so I gotta assume Grayhead and Penny...?"

Eric cleared his throat and began the tale. It must have been hard for him to retell. But when he'd first shared it with Fez, Rhonda, and Kelso, he'd done so clear-eyed and steadily—just as he was doing now. Encouragingly, his expression grew brighter as he came to the events that took place after the wolves' retreat.

"And Penny's totally different now, thanks to you," Eric said. "She's already rescinded the law that made human-wolf love illegal, and her citizens—including the Red Caps—seem a lot happier. If you hadn't broken the curse—"

"Credit where credit's due, man," Hyde said. "You made good choices. Giving her the ring when you did was a smart move."

"Yes, she is not the troublemaker we once knew," Fez said. "The Nine Kingdoms have become safer and, perhaps, a little more boring."

The cracked ring was clenched in Eric's fist. Donna unfurled his fingers and took it from him. "Boring isn't always bad," she said and placed the ring in Fez's palm. "For your museum or whatever."

"More good news," Kelso said. "The wolves didn't do as much damage to the southern Second Kingdom as we thought. Yeah, Grayhead's pack totally decimated Bread Crumb Village, and Gingerbread Town got wrecked, but the other wolf packs just occupied the rest of the towns. They didn't kill except in defense."

"And Gretel's body was returned to Gingerbread Town." Fez put the cracked ring into his pocket and reached for Rhonda's hand. He needed her strength. Gretel's death and Miss Muffet's still pained him dearly, and speaking of the southern kingdom abraded those wounds. "I have recommended to the Council of the Nine Kingdoms that Wolf succeed Gretel. He and his lady love, Virginia, will make wise, compassionate rulers."

"What about the mirror?" Jackie said. "Did you find it?"

"Yup," Kelso said. "It's protected by the Fourth Kingdom guard in Penny's castle—"

"For now." Fez looked up to the bright blue sky. The sun's rays were shining obliquely through the Elf-protected bubble. Kelso, he imagined, would beam as warmly when he returned to his daughter and the woman he loved. Fez was going to miss him terribly, but Kelso more than deserved his happily ever, and Fez forced his gaze back to his friends. "It will be transported back to my kingdom once you go through it."

Hyde quirked up an eyebrow. "Then let's get the hell to Penny's castle."

* * *

With Penny's permission, Eric brought her mother's ear down to Bernice's tomb. The stink of death made him gag, and the sigils cut into the ceiling still cast an eerie red light, illuminating his grandmother's skeletal body. Not an easy sight to bear but a necessary one. The ear was sitting on its velvet pillow, and this he laid over Bernice's chest. "I hope you both can find some peace," he said.

He placed his last remaining need seed on Averill's ear, and the tomb's blood-soaked light vanished. It had become pure white, and he glanced at the ceiling. The sigils had changed shape, and light shone from them as if the sun itself were beaming through. Within that light, the seed blossomed into a rose, vibrant and unblemished by death. It was now the reddest thing in the tomb. Its sweet scent had pushed out the rot, and he pulled in a deep breath.

"Always the sentimental one, little brother."

He peeked up his head. Laurie was standing by the coffin, and behind her was a youthful Bernice. Her scarlet hair sparkled brightly in the sigil light, as did her smile. She was holding hands with a wolf in human form, her beloved her other hand was Penny— _no._ Penny's mother, Averill. Her eyes had lost their hardness and hate.

"Yes, Eric, they're all okay," Laurie said, answering Eric's unasked question. "More than okay." She glided her arms around Eric's back in a deep embrace. "You deserve peace, too," she whispered, and Bernice, Rollin, and Averill kissed their hands to him. "That's my wish for you. That you have peace."

She evaporated in his arms, but not before her heart beat against him. His grandmother, grandfather, and aunt faded, too, covering their own hearts. Eric was alone again, but the tomb had transformed from a place of death and pain to one of life and joy. The walls depicted images of Bernice, Rollin, and Averill frolicking happily together in some kind of heavenly forest. Laurie even showed up in one of the frescoes and smirked at him.

Eric touched her painted face, and his fingers came away with a warm kiss. He slid them over his chest. The warmth sank into his heart, releasing years of self-doubt and shame, and his eyes fell shut as, finally, he felt whole.


	69. The Sun Will Rise Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC.

EPILOGUE  
 **THE SUN WILL RISE AGAIN**  


The Ashby Country Club overlooked Lake Michigan. The place was too uptight for Hyde's liking, but he barely registered his surroundings. Jackie had all his attention.

Outside on a raised platform, they were holding hands. The gray-haired minister in front of them read from a book Hyde didn't care about. Jackie cared, though, so the minister's gobbledygook didn't bother him. He hardly heard it anyway. Jackie still had all his attention, the most beautiful and brave chick he'd ever known.

The sky was a ribbon of orange and pink as the sun went down, and the colors reflected off her beaded wedding dress. She'd refused to have a veil obscuring her face, which suited him fine. After six months, her hair had grown halfway toward her shoulders, and a crown of marigolds was woven through it—a crown he'd made. A bejeweled eyeball topped the band of her new engagement ring: blue topaz for the iris, onyx for the pupil, and diamonds for the white of the eye. It was an expensive version of the ring he'd lost in the wolf attack and paid for by W.B., like the wedding.

Three-hundred guests had been invited, including Jack Burkhart. Hyde harbored few good feelings for the man, but Jack had seemed genuinely happy as he walked his kid down the petal-strewn aisle. Jackie's tearful smile was all Hyde needed to let her father off the hook, at least until after the honeymoon.

The rest of the guest list was made up of family and friends, both close and not-so-close. Leo sat in the second row behind Hyde's sister, Angie. Hyde was glad Fez's people had found him. Leo had been shacked up with an Elf in the Fifth Kingdom. He'd grown used to being nude, but—thankfully—he'd put on his version of a suit for the wedding.

The Formans had front-row seats, of course, along with the Pinciottis. Hyde thought he even caught a glimpse of Laurie behind Red. The flowers for this shindig had come complimentary from some florist W.B. had never heard of. It had to be Laurie's doing, man, among other things. She'd helped saved his and Jackie's ass when they were in the cursed ring, and that—as far as he was concerned—settled the balance between them.

"The bride and groom have prepared their own vows," the minister said; Hyde had tuned back into him just in time. "Now, rather untraditionally, the groom will go first."

Hyde said nothing but rubbed a hand over his heart, and Jackie gazed at him with eyes as warm and bright as the sun. Then he pressed his hand over her heart. It beat fast and strong against his palm, and she kissed the top of his fingertips.

The minister coughed, clearly uncomfortable with what they were doing, but he got it together and said, "Now, the bride will, er... _express_ her vows."

Wordlessly, Jackie slid a hand over her heart, and fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. She rubbed her palm up and down then pressed the warmth she'd gathered into Hyde's chest. He freakin' felt it in his own damn heart, and he shook his head slightly, overwhelmed by how much a person could love him... and by how much he could love her back.

"That's all?" Donna said. She was standing beside Jackie as the maid of honor, and Jackie's other bride's maids—her mother, Rhonda, and Brooke—all waved at Donna to shush, but she kept going. "I thought we were gonna have to stand here for hours while you talked about 'Steven's perfect everything'."

"We said all we needed to." Jackie's eyes narrowed, and she stared Donna into silent laughter. "Now pipe down!"

But Hyde's best man had to get in on the action, too. "No, no, no," Forman said, "this is not how you do a wedding." It was payback. In her cursed state, Jackie had disrupted Forman's vows to Donna by talking and making a scene. "Man, if I could've just patted Donna's chest instead of—"

"I would like to pat Donna's chest," Fez said. He was a groomsman, too, and wearing a standard black tux, but he also had on his golden king's sash. The sunset painted it with swirls of pink and orange. "Her breasts are the Eleventh and Twelfth Kingdoms."

Kelso, another groomsman, low-fived him. "Nice one."

Forman clasped Kelso and Fez's shoulders. "Okay, enough about Donna's incredible chest. Hyde, I spent hours on my vows. Hours and hours and hours—"

"We're already married where it counts, man," Hyde said. "We're just makin' it legal for tax breaks."

Jackie's expression hardened as if she were insulted, but a smile curled at the corners of her mouth. She'd understood what he meant, but the minister—not so much. He coughed again and said, "Shall we move on?" then continued with his spiel. "With the power vested in me..."

Hyde leaned in and kissed Jackie long before he finished. The minister tried to interrupt them, and Hyde pulled away from Jackie's lips just enough to speak. "Like I said, we're already hitched. Just keep goin'."

The minister did, and as Hyde deepened the kiss, as Jackie's soft hands cupped his cheeks, the minister said, "You may now, er... _keep_ kissing the bride."

* * *

Inside the country club's grand ballroom, The Captain and Tennille's "Circles" played over the sound system. Donna's engagement ring was singing along, but Eric smiled at her as they danced, and she tuned-out the bad music. He'd become so much more like himself during the last t six months, laughing easily again. He let her hold him after his nightmares, and she did the same, but for both of them, the flashbacks had grown few and far between. Some nights, she swore Laurie brushed her fingers over their foreheads before they fell asleep. The dreams that followed were like joyful family reunions with all of the Formans, both living and deceased.

During their fall semester of school, Donna had written essays inspired by her experiences through the mirror, applying the lessons learned in the Nine Kingdoms to the United States and their relationship to other countries. The school paper published them; then, much to her delight, the essays were picked up by _The Wisconsin State Journal._ Eric, meanwhile, had found a passion for public advocacy and switched his major to it.

His appetite still grew during the full moon, _in all ways,_ but Mrs. Forman had caught on and sent them food packages in Madison. Alone, they couldn't afford the amount of food he put down, but Donna very much enjoyed satisfying another of his appetites. Sex with him was always amazing, but on the full moon, their connection intensified. It had become common practice for them to unplug their phone those nights. Because on those nights, neither of them had the capacity to communicate with anyone but each other.

And now in the ballroom, as the song changed to The Doors' "Waiting for the Sun," everyone else in seemed to vanish. They hadn't, of course, but Eric was kissing her. His mouth coaxed her into her own kind of animalistic frenzy. She barely controlled it, clawing her fingers through the back of his hair. She could have ripped off his clothes in the middle of the dance floor, but she didn't for decency's sake. Plus, he pulled away before she had a chance to do it.

"So," he said, "is this what Happy Ever After feels like, my tiger lily?" His smile was deeper than before, and her own smile made her cheeks hurt.

"Yes, yes..." She was chuckling. "Wait—'tiger lily'?"

"I thought you like that one."

"Yeah, among Elves and stuff, but here it just sounds awkward."

"Okay, how about..." he waggled his eyebrows, "my 'Queen of Hearts'?"

"No way, my ' _wolfish prince_ '. Face it, Eric. Pet names just aren't us. We can't pull them off."

His smile turned mischievous. "Your 'wolfish prince'. Actually, that one's kinda cool. Yeah..." He nuzzled her neck, and she giggled. "I know what we _can_ pull off, m'lady."

"What?" She was losing herself to his touches. He'd begun to dance with her in a highly provocative manner. His hips were in perfect alignment with hers, and his palms swept over the small of her back, raising gooseflesh. If anyone caught them...

"Wedding sex," he said. "I know for a fact there are a few private rooms in this club, and—"

She made the first move. She yanked him toward the ballroom exit before he could say, "I've got my lock pick from Hyde."

* * *

Brooke and Kelso were dancing, a lot closer than Kelso expected. To his utter shock, she'd wanted to start dating again, but she'd also been hesitant to bring their relationship to the naked zone—and, surprisingly, that was okay with him. Just being with her was enough, despite the burns from Hyde and Eric and even Donna about him maturing.

The last six months with Brooke and Betsy had been great. His last adventure in the Nine Kingdoms—minus the gruesome parts—delighted the munchkin, and the uncensored version had Brooke looking at him with some kind of awe. " _You're so brave, Michael,_ "she'd said. " _You risked your life for your friends, for people you don't even know... and now you're doing the same here. You're incredible._ "

He'd set himself back up in Chicago, using a generous monetary gift from Fez. But less than a week after his return, he got a job offer from the Chicago police department. The Captain said his references were impeccable and that they had to have him as a lead detective. Kelso could hardly believe it. He'd thought his cop career was over after bolting on the Point Place P.D..

The residue of his ill-made wishes must've finally been wearing off. That was the only explanation he had. Even now at the wedding, Brooke was more physically affectionate than usual. Her fingers were threading through his hair, and her face was drawing closer to his.

"Brooke, what are you do—"

She kissed him, and butterflies battered the inside of his skull until the sensation of Brooke's kindness, her hidden playfulness—damn, _everything_ that she was—calmed them. Hyde had told him about that kind of feeling, and Kelso never really got it until he _got_ it.

"I love you, Michael..." she pulled away from his lips but barely, "and I want to be with you."

"Wait, right now? Like doin' it with me?"

"No—well, actually..." She was laughing, and the smile in her brown eyes made his breath hitch. "I want us to be together, like a family. You, me, and Betsy... I want us to live together."

Kelso forced himself to breathe, and he exhaled his excitement. "All right!"

Brooke seemed to have been holding her breath, too, because she let out a relieved sigh. "You really want that?"

"Do I want that? Brooke, that's all I want—and doing it with you. A lot. _A lot..._ "

She glanced over his shoulder to the tables surrounding the dance floor. "Betsy seems to be having fun with the Formans... Let's go."

"You're serious?"

"When aren't I? _So_ serious. That's one reason I love you, Michael. You make things fun."

"Yeah, I'm good at that," he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, "but so are you, baby. You make everything... super-good, and I can't even count the reasons I love you. Not because I can't count that high. I can get up to... well, whatever. But there's a lot of reasons, like the fact you can pick a lock with a bobby pin."

"I read a book about it at the library," she said, "and I got curious. Who knew my fingers were so nimble?"

"I did," he said.

They dashed together past the still-dancing wedding guests, intending to find one of the country club's private rooms, but he felt a tickle at left ear. "Your wishes have been granted, lame-o," someone whispered. It sounded like Laurie, but no one was beside him but Brooke. "You're welcome. Happy ever after and all that crap."

"Thanks, Laurie," he whispered back.

Brooke stared at him. "What?"

"What?"

"You just whispered something."

"I did?" Kelso shifted his eyes, "Oh, uh..." then increased their pace toward the ballroom exit. "What do you think of 'Fez' as a boy's name in case our condom breaks again?"

"Oh, God..."

* * *

The dance floor had been cleared for the bouquet toss. A crowd of unmarried, female wedding guests—including Fez's fiancée, Rhonda—gathered a dozen feet behind Jackie. Jackie hurled the bouquet over her shoulder, and the crowd scrambled to catch it. Rhonda shoved her way to the front and raised her arm. Her mighty but gentle hand caught the bouquet above the other guests' heads.

Fez pumped his fist in the air and hollered in victory. The other guests never had a chance. His Rhonda would have thrown elbows to get those flowers.

"Coco Puff," she looked over at him and held up two fingers, "that's two-for-two!"

That was also his Rhonda, his beloved. With her ruling by his side in the Fourth Kingdom, his burdens were halved and his joys doubled, and he'd found what he'd so desperately sought: the balance between ensuring Happy Ever After for his citizens...

And enjoying it for himself.

* * *

Steven's song for Jackie played through the ballroom's sound system. Led Zeppelin's "The Rain Song". It was the last dance of the evening but not of their lives. Her left hand rested on his chest, over his heart. It was beating strong and steadily against her palm, but it also pumped inside her, just as hers did inside him.

"So," Steven said and stroked the ridge of her ear, "are Sunlight and the Blue Sky gonna take this song on the road?"

"No," she said. "This one's just for us." The song he'd chosen was perfect, but as much as he thought she was his sunlight, he was hers, too. "So... do you believe in it?"

"Believe in what?"

"You know." _Happiness._

He slid his cheek against hers, and the warmth between their skin heated up before he whispered, "Yeah, I believe in it... 'cause I'm _having_ it." He looked at her again and tightened his arm around her waist. "Right now, Jackie, I'm having it." He kissed her, and the feeling of him spread through her body. "With you," he said afterward, "I'll always have it."

She kissed him back, returning what he'd given her in full measure: unceasing joy. Suffering the curse together, surviving it— _breaking it_ —they never gave up fighting because they were worth fighting for, and they'd won. Through life and even past death, they'd always have each other...

Because true love never died.


End file.
